


you're an angel in disguise ( in my eyes )

by thenationsrapper



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: AU, M/M, everytime seungmin leaves jisung holds his breath n tries not 2 die, minchan if u squint, not edited u might find v silly typos n stupid sentences so i’m sorry, others are there too but barely, pls comment if u like this bc i Died seven times while writing, pls read notes before reading!!!!, the world needs seungsung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenationsrapper/pseuds/thenationsrapper
Summary: Han Jisung is a pretty cool guy. And when you’re full to the brim with swag like Jisung, not a lot of things can throw you off-kilter. This, however, is a perfectly good reason to be thrown off-kilter.This being the fact that his roommate of merely a month is allegedly his guardian angel. Allegedly, because Jisung still seems to think it’s a joke.(or: Han Jisung discovers guardian angels are very much real, and Kim Seungmin is proof enough.)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 48
Kudos: 247





	you're an angel in disguise ( in my eyes )

**Author's Note:**

> hello! here’s a little present for seungsung nation. i honestly didn’t expect to end up writing more than 8k words but here we are :D i hope you enjoy reading this! if you do, please try to leave some comments and kudos! it really helps <3
> 
> *there's a scene with a mugger somewhere near the end, so if ur uncomfy with this pls don't read it! it's not graphic but there's a brief mention of a knife so pls be careful <33

Jisung likes to think that he’s a pretty cool guy. Not excessively cool, but still a decent amount. He’s not _chic_ like Hyunjin, for example, whose religion is tight leather pants and a fashion sense that could land him a respectable position in any top–notch designer label. But nonetheless, Han Jisung is a pretty cool guy. And when you’re full to the brim with swag like Jisung, not a lot of things can throw you off-kilter. _This_ , however, is a perfectly good reason to be thrown off-kilter.

This being the fact that his roommate of merely a month is allegedly his guardian angel. Allegedly, because Jisung still seems to think it’s a joke. Hyunjin probably paid Seungmin to do this. In fact, with every passing second he is _sure_ that it’s Hyunjin trying to get back at him for spoiling the last episode of Itaewon Class – which, by the way, wasn’t even his fault. How was _he_ supposed to know Kkami had accidentally licked chocolate icing off the floor and had to be rushed to the vet, robbing Hyunjin of his time to watch the drama?

He snaps out of his silent battle with Hyunjin because of a particularly loud scoff from Seungmin, who appears to be nothing short of frustrated. Actually, he seems to be seconds away from tearing his own hair out and plastering it all over the wall– which to be fair, _would_ be a nice addition to their shabby, seven-thousand won wallpaper. 

“Jisung, focus.” Seungmin repeats, snapping his fingers. He looks increasingly irritated now, so Jisung should probably pay at least a bit of attention to what Seungmin is trying to say. 

Except it’s all so ridiculous. How could Seungmin just be an angel? And a guardian angel at that? He’d be laughing if he wasn’t so incredibly blown away by how serious his roommate was about this entire situation. Which leads him to wonder exactly how much Hyunjin is paying him to pull this off. 

“Seungmin,” he says finally, “how can I believe you when you say something that crazy?” 

“It is not _crazy_. Have you never heard of guardian angels? Did your mother never tell you about them when you were a child?” Seungmin argues. The seriousness in his tone makes Jisung think that maybe he should reconsider. But then again, isn’t this a prank? 

“I _have_ heard of guardian angels but only in fairy tales. Do you believe in fairy tales too?” Jisung retorts, folding his arms stubbornly. He will not let Hyunjin and Seungmin’s combined efforts defeat him like this. 

Seungmin loses his cool for a moment, sighing with so much exasperation that Jisung genuinely feels bad. That feeling, however, only lasts a few fleeting moments because then Seungmin looks at him, eyes glinting menacingly, and Jisung starts feeling scared instead. There’s no way Seungmin can be a guardian angel, he’s too terrifying to be one. 

“Listen to me,” Seungmin begins, frustration evident in every word that falls out of his mouth. “I am your guardian angel. I know it is hard to believe, but the Higher Angel in charge of your file–”

“There’s a _file_ about me?” 

“–decided that you need someone who could stay with you in person as well. Which is why I was assigned as your roommate and guardian angel for this year. If we are considered compatible by the Higher Angel – which I seriously doubt, considering our current situation – then I might be promoted to being your permanent guardian.” Seungmin finishes, glaring at him so intensely that he blinks. 

“Uhm, okay, wow,” Jisung says, trying to process everything. He squints at Seungmin. “Why did the Higher Angel feel like I needed someone to be with me constantly?” 

Seungmin groans. “Is that all you grasped from what I just told you?” He continues before Jisung can interrupt. “You are very careless with your health. And before you ask, yes, essentially guardian angels are supposed to save you from life threatening situations, but it is feared that rather than experiencing a normal death like the average human being, self-neglect might be the cause of yours.”

Jisung winces. Seungmin’s words, true though they were, felt like a direct attack. “That wasn’t harsh at all,” he manages to say, and Seungmin beams at him in response. It’s quite a contrast from the stern look he had on earlier. “Really? My supervisor said that I should be less, uh, straightforward, but I think you do not seem to mind very much!”

“You’re right about that,” Jisung laughs weakly, throwing finger guns at Seungmin, who blinks. “What is that?”

Right. If Seungmin isn’t from around here, like he claims, of course he wouldn’t know what a finger gun is. 

“Never mind,” he says instead. “Wait, does every student here have a guardian angel too?” he asks, partially curious but mostly to just play along – even he wants to see how long Seungmin can go on with this little charade of his. 

Seungmin nods, visibly pleased that Jisung was finally asking sensical questions. “Yes, of course,” he explains. “Guardian angels are assigned to every student here. In fact, most of them, like in your case, are also their roommates! That way, it’s easier for us to ensure their safety.” 

Jisung whistles in disbelief. Seungmin might just be telling the truth if he’s making such bold statements, claiming that everyone has a guardian angel around here. He’s still not sure whether to believe him or not, though. Hyunjin had probably told Seungmin to expect this and simply play along, the little bastard. 

“Okay,” he says, trying just once more to make Seungmin give up, “do you know someone who I also know who is a guardian angel too?”

Seungmin stares at him. “Pardon?”

Jisung has to stop himself from laughing. In their first few days as roommates, Seungmin hardly used to speak to him so he hadn’t really noticed the way he talked. Now, however, the almost archaic speech pattern Seungmin had adopted was amusing him greatly. It might just be a part of the act, but the way the words flow so naturally out of Seungmin makes him think otherwise.

“Sorry, I’ll rephrase.” Jisung apologises. “Do you know any guardian angel that I’m friends with?”

At this, Seungmin’s facade of frustration crumbles and instead he looks worried. _Of course_ , Jisung thinks to himself with a twinge of satisfaction, _why wouldn’t he?_ He’s lying after all. Even Hyunjin should know that the game is up now. 

Jisung: +5

Hyunjin: -2

“I don’t know if it is permissible for me to share this information with you,” Seungmin says, voice solemn all of a sudden. He’s a good actor, Jisung will give him that much at least. But Jisung is no fool, either. 

“It’s okay, Seungmin,” he smiles reassuringly. “You can stop acting now. Hyunjin should’ve known from that start that he couldn’t ever get back at me with something _that_ ridiculous.”

Seungmin’s jaw drops, and Jisung has to physically restrain himself from smirking. He fails. Hyunjin really thought he’d be able to get back at him. 

“Excuse me?” Seungmin snaps, affronted, and the smirk promptly slides off Jisung’s face. “You think I’m putting on an act for you? Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Jisung’s eyes widen in mild panic. Why is Seungmin so offended when it’s just a _joke?_

“And may I know who this ‘Hyunjin’ is? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind as well.” Seungmin continues, the tips of his ears turning red. 

_This can’t be good_ , Jisung thinks. 

“Of course,” Seungmin rambles on angrily, “the Heavens _would_ assign me to a dense, goblin sized man—”

“Hey!”

“—who refuses to pay any heed to, or believe anything I say.” He pauses for a moment, looking up at the ceiling guiltily. “No offense, Higher Angel sunbaenim. I am merely angry.” He then looks down at Jisung again. “Since you are having such a difficult time believing me, fine. Your precious Minho hyung is also a guardian angel. Go ask him.”

And with that, Seungmin stalks out of the room, leaving Jisung to stare after him in utter disbelief and bewilderment.

“You’re a guardian angel _too_?” Jisung hisses incredulously, glaring at Minho. He can’t believe this, really. He’d come to Minho for reassurance, to help him confirm that no, angels were not real and all of this was, in fact, merely Hyunjin’s idea of an incredibly stupid joke. 

“Oh yes, go ahead, why don’t you say it out loud for the rest of the world to hear?” Minho snaps, swatting him on the head. “Idiot.”

“Ow! That hurt,” Jisung grimaces, thinking of the poor soul Minho’s in charge of. “Whose guardian angel are you anyway? I’ll make sure to pray for them.” 

“Felix’s. And don’t get all mouthy with me.” Minho replies, and Jisung’s brain shuts down for the nth time that day. “Felix’s? But you’re not his roommate,” he says dumbly, and Minho barks out a laugh. 

“Not all guardian angels are roommates, dingus. In fact, a lot of people don’t even know they have a guardian angel because they just choose not to reveal themselves.”

Minho says it so casually it makes Jisung wonder about how normal this whole situation is.

“So Seungmin was right?” He asks, more to himself than Minho, but the older of the two hums in assent anyway. “Does everyone have a guardian angel?”

Minho nods, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He seems to be finding this very amusing. “It’d hardly be fair if only a handful of people had them, right?”

“Yeah... I guess so.” Jisung replies, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He can’t really believe he’s having this conversation. It would seem surreal, except Minho looks so at ease about this that even Jisung can't help but feel slightly relaxed. His mind wanders to Seungmin – _his_ guardian angel. He feels bad for giving him such a hard time earlier that morning. Especially considering that the poor boy – sorry, angel – had been right all along. 

“Hey, one more thing.” Jisung begins, and Minho grunts as if to say go on. “How come Seungmin speaks like everything he says was written by Shakespeare and you speak like a normal millennial?” 

Minho’s only just begun to laugh at his question, when suddenly–

“You _are_ aware that I can hear you, right?” Seungmin’s sharp voice sounds from right behind him, and Jisung _shrieks_ , spilling his soda all over himself. 

“Hey, what the heck, Seungmin?” Jisung whines, frowning at his sodden pants. He can feel them clinging to his thighs, the beverage dripping down his legs. He shudders in disgust. “Thanks a lot,” he adds under his breath. 

By this point, Minho is laughing so hysterically that he’s fallen off his chair. Seungmin, on the other hand, is scowling at him with his arms crossed, clearly upset with Jisung’s earlier question. Which, by the way, wasn’t even that offensive? Seungmin _does_ speak like a prehistoric Roman emperor. It’s not Jisung’s fault. 

“Where’d you even come from? You weren’t here, like, two seconds ago.” Jisung asks, turning to look at him. He immediately regrets it when Seungmin’s scowl deepens, mouth opening to obviously let out another sharp retort. 

“I’m your guardian angel, you buffoon. I’m _always_ with you.” Seungmin snaps. Under different circumstances, his words would make Jisung swoon. Right now, however, Seungmin sounds like he’s experiencing the unfolding of a series of extremely unfortunate events. It’s evident he’d rather be anywhere else than stuck with Jisung. 

“And to answer your question,” Seungmin adds with a sniff, making sure to glare at him as he speaks, “Minho hyung has spent far more time with your kind than I have, and it is a bit difficult for me to get accustomed to your ways despite the lessons I attended beforehand.” 

“Oh,” Jisung replies, suddenly feeling regretful. He _has_ been a bit inconsiderate towards Seungmin, considering how new this must be to him. In his defense, he had been sure it was just a prank. Still, Seungmin hadn’t deserved any of that. He looks up at Seungmin again. “You can always ask me for help,” he offers with a small smile, trying to make up for his crudeness. 

Seungmin opens his mouth to reply when Minho butts in with an encouraging smile. “Of course, our Seungminnie is such a fast learner. I’m sure he’ll be speaking like you in no time.” 

“Well, I mean, maybe not like me—” Jisung begins, but trails off when Minho’s eyes glint dangerously. “Exactly like me. Seungmin will be speaking _exactly_ like me.” He corrects hastily. 

At this, Seungmin beams. “Thank you,” he says, turning to smile at Jisung. “I appreciate and accept your offer.” 

“Good!” Minho exclaims, getting up from his chair and grabbing his wallet. He claps Jisung on the back. “I’ll see you later, Jisungie. You and Seungmin have a lot to catch up on.”

“Bye, hyung!” Seungmin waves cheerfully, and Jisung wonders howhe can go from terrifying to cute in a matter of seconds. 

“Yeah, bye hyung,” Jisung adds dully, watching Minho’s retreating back. 

“Now,” says the angel, after Minho has left and the soda on his legs finally begins drying. “What do you want to know?”

In the days that follow, Jisung learns the following things:

Seungmin’s full name is Kim Seungmin. This, however, Jisung had already known since the day they first became roommates, but Seungmin had insisted that they should start properly with introductions, so he had been forced to listen again. Then, he learns that Seungmin is a novice when it comes to being a guardian angel, and Jisung is his third charge. His first charge had been an infant, the second a prepubescent teenager, and the third: Jisung. The infant had been Seungmin’s favourite, and the teenager reminded him “a great deal of you” in Seungmin’s words. Jisung doesn’t know what to make of that. 

However, Seungmin had never interacted directly with his former charges before, with the exception of the baby, but that too on only a few occasions. (“He was such a darling, I could not help but sit and play with him.”) Which is why, now, Seungmin was finding it a bit difficult to stay updated with the current generation’s speaking methodology. 

“I mean, I did attend a few lessons before, of course—” Seungmin begins to clarify, when Jisung questions him about his speech. He pauses mid-sentence, grimacing at the state of Jisung’s room. “Do you really live like this?”

“Um, what were you saying about the lessons?” Jisung asks instead, attempting to distract him from the mess.

“Don’t try to change the subject,” Seungmin chides, tearing his eyes away from the obnoxiously large pile of dirty laundry right in front of the closet, and glaring at Jisung instead. 

“Are you sure you’re not my mom…” Jisung mutters under his breath, rolling out of the warmth of his bed and pretending to clean his room just so Seungmin would get off his back. Seungmin ignores his comment, and lets out a pleased hum as Jisung clears his table. 

“Yes, as I was saying, I _did_ attend classes to understand how humans live,” Seungmin begins explaining again, seating himself on the edge of Jisung’s bed, but not before dusting it lightly to remove a few imaginary specks of dust. Jisung tries not to roll his eyes at that. “I mean, of course I had a vague idea of your customs but pretending to be someone’s roommate required an entirely different level of learning, yes? And I-”

“Wait, I don't mean to interrupt but why’d you even reveal your um… true identity… to me? Couldn’t you have just kept doing your work while living with me as my roommate?” Jisung questions. He hopes he doesn’t too rude, but this had been piquing his curiosity for a while now. He couldn’t see any reason for Seungmin to explain what exactly he was here for. Jisung could have just lived in ignorance. 

“Hm,” Seungmin says thoughtfully. “It was not my idea, to be honest. The original plan was to simply share an accommodation with you. However, I am not very good at interacting with your kind, and I knew it would appear strange to you if I began helping you out, out of the blue. Which is why the Higher Angel felt that it would be better for the both of us if you knew who I really was.” 

“Oh,” is all Jisung can say. “That makes sense, I guess.”

Seungmin smiles gratefully at him. “I know it is probably quite irksome for you to have me berate you all the time. You might think of me as highly unpleasant, for which I apologize. But I sincerely hope that I can help you out, and that in turn, you can help me get accustomed to your ways. I am already very thankful for how considerate you have been.” 

Jisung’s eyes widen. “Seungmin, that’s… I don’t know what to say. I mean, I haven’t really done anything for you yet so you don’t have to thank me for anything? And your nagging doesn’t really bother me, it’s kind of like having my mom live with me again except in the form of a teenage boy so um, that’s okay?” He finishes, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He hopes he isn’t pink all over. This entire situation is so embarrassing. 

To his surprise, Seungmin laughs. “It is rather amusing that you would compare me to your mother, when among my friends I am usually considered immature.”

Jisung snorts at the thought of Seungmin, of all people, being immature. “Your friends must be fun at parties.” 

“Oh, yes!” Seungmin’s eyes light up, not picking up on the sarcasm at all. Jisung absentmindedly notes that Seungmin has the prettiest pair of eyes he’s seen. “I would tell you all about it, but I doubt I am allowed to.” 

“No biggie,” Jisung shrugs. “When I’m reincarnated as an angel, I’ll experience it myself.” 

This time it’s Seungmin who snorts. “You would most likely be reincarnated as a squirrel.”

“Fair enough,” Jisung says, and bites back the smile that’s threatening to bloom on his face.

In only a few weeks, Seungmin melds into his life seamlessly. The grocery list on the fridge is always updated, his visits to the laundromat become more frequent, and in general, his life takes a turn for the better. 

In all honesty, he’s gotten used to living with Seungmin. The soft singing that resonates throughout their tiny apartment, the sporadic bouts of laughter when Jisung does something particularly silly, the tasteless food he stomachs after Seungmin attempts to cook. 

(“In my defense,” Seungmin argues, watching Jisung’s face contort in disgust as he takes a bite of the kimchi Seungmin had struggled to make, “angels do not eat like humans. Hence, I have little experience in the culinary world.” 

“You don’t say,” Jisung shudders, and proceeds to down another glass of water.)

But all in all, it’s good for him, he realizes, to have Seungmin around. Beneath all his snide remarks and scrutiny-filled gazes, lies a genuine sense of caring and concern, which makes Jisung develop a liking for the angel. In fact, he rather enjoys having little squabbles with him over the most ridiculous of things, like freshly laundered clothes, for example:

“I am not your mother.” Seungmin says, staring disdainfully at the ever growing pile of clothes sitting at the edge of Jisung’s bed, practically begging to be folded by his able hands. “I am not your mother,” he repeats, inching closer to them. “I am not your mother.” At this point, he’s just saying it to himself, to stop his own two hands from betraying him and getting rid of the mess. 

He’s standing right in front of the pile now, and it’s obvious that the poor soul is physically restraining himself from reaching out to tidy up the clothes. 

“I am not your mother.” Seungmin whispers, arms outstretched. “Funny, that’s exactly what my mother says,” Jisung grins, and watches with unbidden glee as Seungmin finally caves in and begins folding the clothes, arranging them into careful, neat piles. 

“You’re a terrible person, Han Jisung,” Seungmin whines. “I will personally put in a word, or maybe an entire paragraph of complaint, to the Higher Angel.”

“Hey!” Jisung argues feebly, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. It’s so _fun_ to rile Seungmin up. “I didn’t ask you to do them for me!”

“Yes, but you know I cannot _stand_ unfolded clothes. And this— this _mountain_ of your garments was just begging to be folded. I could not possibly stop myself.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Jisung smirks, watching Seungmin carefully place his clothes into separate piles.

Seungmin, he notes, also manages to get along quite well with his friends. Especially with Felix, who takes an instant liking to the angel. 

“I taught him how to play League of Legends, and he’s great at it. Like, _insanely_ good,” Felix gushes, and Jisung scowls. “I’m not that bad either…” he argues, and has Felix snort at him in response. “No offence mate, but you’re terrible at League.” All the while, Seungmin is beaming proudly from behind Felix, and Jisung can’t help but bite back a tiny grin; Seungmin is kind of cute. 

Even Hyunjin, who normally feels awkward around strangers, finds himself warming up to him soon enough. Jisung realizes that Seungmin, although quiet by nature, is definitely a fun person to be with, with his witty remarks and dry sense of humor. He fits almost perfectly in their ragtag group of friends, and Jisung doesn’t let himself dwell on how this is probably temporary. After all, Seungmin himself had mentioned that guardian angels keep getting reassigned, and that his time with Jisung would not be brief, per se, but definitely not long either. 

But in the meantime, Jisung will admit that altogether, having Seungmin as his guardian is quite a fun feat. Considering how sometimes, living with Seungmin is like this: 

“Han Jisung, you are intolerable. _Nine_ different pairs of socks scattered on the _same_ carpet. How many socks can one possibly own? You only _have_ two feet!”

“Seungmin—”

“I don’t want to hear a word. You are a nightmare to live with, truly. Pick up your socks or I will strangle you with them.” Seungmin hisses, and an offensively bright, neon sock comes flying at Jisung’s face. 

_Ah, domestic bliss,_ Jisung thinks, putting his laptop aside as he hurries to the living room. There stands Seungmin, looking like the devil himself. It would be funny, the fact that Seungmin is his guardian angel yet Jisung truly fears for his life around him, were it not for the fact that Seungmin was seconds away from exploding. 

“Look at your clothes,” His guardian angel tuts the moment Jisung walks in, grimacing at his wrinkled tee. “Have you ever used an iron?”

Jisung thinks back to the one time he had tried to iron his favourite white shirt and had ended up burning both the shirt and the entire socket. He can still remember the shockingly bright sparks and the fire that had followed them. “Yes,” he lies. 

Seungmin’s eyes narrow in suspicion, his dubious gaze piercing enough to make Jisung repress a shudder. “And would you say your ironing skills are above the mediocre level?”

“Obviously,” Jisung replies confidently, the image of the fire still playing in his mind. 

“Then why do you not make use of it?” Seungmin snaps, shaking his head. Jisung is once again reminded of his mother. “I swear it is like I am living with a five year old.”

“Well, I am a college student so it’s pretty much the same thing.” Jisung deadpans, and has another sock flung at him. 

“Being a student does not equate living like a rat,” Seungmin responds, glaring at a moldy patch on the ceiling. “How on earth will we get rid of that?” 

“Oh, Seungmin. If only you knew.” Jisung sighs dramatically, and begins picking up his socks. “Oh! My reindeer socks! Seungmin, look!” 

“Oh yes, the joys of cleaning; discovering lost goods!” Seungmin says sarcastically, but Jisung can see the small smile that’s tugging at his lips anyway, and that’s all that matters for now. 

Other times, living with Seungmin is like this:

“What is this... little television?” Seungmin asks one day, tapping the microwave curiously. The little television in question lets out a loud beep which makes Seungmin jump slightly. “Oh, be quiet,” he says, glaring at the poor microwave. 

Jisung struggles to hold back a laugh. Does Seungmin truly not know what a microwave is? Actually, now that he thinks of it, he can’t remember Seungmin ever using it. He’d seen him in the kitchen multiple times, making eggs or ramyeon and even kimchi, occasionally, but he would always use the stove instead. Maybe he truly hadn’t known. 

“It’s a microwave,” Jisung explains carefully, making sure to look at Seungmin as he speaks. “It heats up food for you. Like for example, when we put our leftovers in the fridge, we can heat them up the next morning and eat them while they’re warm.”

“Oh!” Seungmin exclaims, eyeing the microwave in wonder. “What a lovely contraption.”

Jisung grins. “Oh boy, wait till you see the toaster.” 

“Oh angel, you mean,” Seungmin corrects in all seriousness, and Jisung can’t help but laugh. 

Seungmin sure is something special. 

“You’re fond of him, aren’t you?” Minho remarks, when Jisung shares all of this with him. His eyes, Jisung notes, have a considerable amount of solemness in them which immediately sobers him up. 

“What do you mean?” he asks nonchalantly, watching Seungmin laugh at something Felix says. He knows for a fact that the angel can’t listen into his and Minho’s conversation right now, considering how he’s quite a way from them and too distracted by the game he and Felix are engaged in. 

Minho looks at him again, and he’s forced to meet his gaze. “Seungmin. You’ve warmed up to him pretty quickly.” 

“Well, he _is_ my guardian angel. Would you rather I don’t speak to him at all?” Jisung retorts, and is surprised to hear how defensive he sounds. Why was he getting so worked up over a harmless question? And also, why did he feel so warm all of a sudden? 

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Minho shrugs. “You usually take a while before you get accustomed to someone. And we both know you prefer living alone, so it’s surprising to say the least.” When he sees Jisung frown, he adds, “It’s a good thing. Stop being so weird about it.”

“Hyung, _you’re_ being weird,” Jisung scowls, kicking him lightly. 

“Hey!” Minho laughs, “It’s good, I _said._ The more comfortable you are with each other, the better it is, really. Seungmin is pretty great, right?”

Jisung huffs, but his lips twitch anyway. “Yeah,” he admits. “Seungmin is pretty great.” 

And as if he can sense them speaking about him, the angel turns to look at him from across the room, a smile in his eyes as he does so. 

Jisung ignores how his heart flutters at the little action. Beside him, Minho smiles knowingly. He ignores that too. 

When it begins to get colder, things start changing. For one, Jisung stays out till much later, reaching their apartment by midnight. This bothers Seungmin, who had been very pleased with Jisung finally adopting a normal, healthy routine. He tries explaining that his tardiness is mostly because he’s studying for his upcoming finals, and between trips to the studio and library, reaching home on time becomes increasingly difficult. Seungmin, however, simply ignores his lamenting. 

Instead, he opts to remind him time and time again to get enough sleep. “It said in your file—” he begins, and Jisung promptly shuts his words out. It seems that in the past few days, that’s all he’s ever heard. He feels bad for Seungmin, really, but mostly he feels an overwhelming sense of annoyance. It’s not like he’s _choosing_ to disrupt his routine. And anyway, Seungmin is his guardian angel, not his _mother_ for God’s sake. 

When he finally says so to the angel, out of sheer exasperation and disgruntlement, Seungmin stills, and simply looks at him for a few moments. Then, Jisung watches with something unpleasant pooling in the pits of his stomach, as his gaze hardens and his face turns stony. 

“Fine,” Seungmin says quietly, and his voice is unusually cold. “Have it your way. And you’re right, I’m not your mother. I’m sorry for being so imposing.” And with that, he turns sharply on his heel and walks into his room. Jisung tries not to wince as the door slams behind him. 

The days that follow leave Jisung in a foul mood. He’s nearly always grumpy; short-tempered and bitter. Hyunjin tells him to stop acting like a prick on numerous occasions, while Felix just shoots sympathetic glances his way. To top all that off, he hardly manages to catch a glimpse of the angel, let alone converse with him.

He considers complaining to Minho, but eventually decides against it when he realizes that whatever he would say, Seungmin would hear it too; Minho had told him earlier that although guardian angels weren’t physically in the presence of their charge, they were definitely still nearby to ensure their charge’s safety at all times. So really, he couldn’t say anything without Seungmin hearing it too, and anyway, he didn’t want to upset the angel further by seemingly going behind his back. 

When Seungmin still doesn’t return, he contemplates apologising, but then pride overtakes him and he waves away that thought as well. And honestly, why should he apologise first when it was Seungmin who was constantly badgering him? 

And so, everything remains the same; Jisung’s sourness, and Seungmin’s disappearance. Jisung, much to his own chagrin, begins to miss him. Seungmin was undoubtedly a comforting presence, and without him, the apartment felt barren and empty. Deep down, even Jisung knows that Seungmin had only been so annoyingly persistent because he was genuinely concerned for Jisung’s health. The realization makes his heart twist unpleasantly. Why had he said such scathing words to Seungmin? 

And then, of course, only a day or two after his and Seungmin’s short squabble, Jisung falls sick. It starts small, with a dry cough and minor headaches. Then, he slowly starts losing his appetite. His cough becomes less dry and soon enough he develops a sore throat and a runny nose. It was bound to happen, now that he thinks of it, due to his scant meals, lack of sleep and refusal to wear warm outerwear. He regrets not listening to Seungmin. 

Still, he’s okay for the first few days; well enough to go outside and stock up on herbal tea and chicken soup. These purchases, however, do little to quell his rapidly devolving symptoms, and the next few days find him curled up in a tiny, feverish ball in his bed. 

His phone pings with messages from his friends, who assume he’s simply taking some time off to study at home. Felix asks time and time again if Jisung wants him to come over. Hyunjin checks up on him too, as does Minho. But all he really wants right now is for Seungmin to come back so he can properly apologise to him. 

Seungmin, however, shows no signs of coming back anytime soon. And after a short while, inertia overtakes him completely; he can barely move without some part of his body aching horribly. He slips in and out of sleep, feeling so sick and _hollow_ . At one point, he wonders if he’s going to die. It’s then that he considers asking his friends for help. He tries typing out a coherent message or even calling, but his phone, he discovers, is out of battery and he can’t find it in himself to search for the charger. Exhausted from doing absolutely nothing, he falls asleep again, and it’s _then_ that-

“Han Jisung, wake up,” a very firm voice says, and he feels his shoulders being shaken by someone. “Han Jisung, wake up right _now or else_.” 

“Wha—” he groans groggily, and immediately feels a sharp pain at the back of his head. He wonders if he’s dreaming for a few seconds, but then a face springs into view and his brain promptly shuts down. He’s definitely dreaming. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Seungmin (?) chides, and Jisung, in his feverish state, is so glad to see him that he nearly cries. “Are you real?” he croaks, eyes glued to Seungmin’s face. He can’t believe it. Seungmin’s _back_?

The person in front of him snorts in disbelief, and offers his hand to Jisung. “I can’t believe you… Here, pinch me and then decide whether I’m real or not.”

 _That’s not how it works,_ Jisung thinks, _but okay_. He lifts his arm, wincing as he does so, and pinches the extended hand, heart pounding when the pads of his finger make contact with soft, warm, and very much real skin. 

“So, am I real enough for you now?” Seungmin snipes, and Jisung nods, dumbstruck. It really is Seungmin. 

“Seungmin—” he begins, a thousand apologies on the tip of this tounge, but the angel cuts him off with a wave of his hand. 

“I am many things,” Seungmin starts in that voice. The voice that heavily implies the beginning of a dramatic speech. “I am your roommate, I am your guardian angel, but I am not your nurse. So take care of yourself or you will die.” 

There’s a fire in his eyes as he angrily slams a tray of food on Jisung’s desk, pushing aside the pile of untouched books. (Jisung should really consider studying after death stops knocking at his door). “Eat. Right this instant.” Seungmin orders, and stalks out of the room without another word. Jisung is left staring after him. _Come back,_ he wants to say, but his throat is hardly functioning at this point. It’s his own fault, he knows, but he really wishes Seungmin would stay with him for a bit. He had hardly seen him in the few days, and now that he was finally back, Jisung wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

And now, as if the fever wasn’t bad enough, Seungmin’s scolding has got Jisung’s heart beating so fast he thinks he’s going to possibly pass out. He catches a whiff of the food that Seungmin had left for him, and nearly tears up. Soup had never smelled so good before. 

He lifts one shaky arm to pull himself out of his duvet, forcing his legs to support his weight as he walks towards his desk. The room spins for a few painstakingly long seconds, and he clutches the back of his chair for support. Maybe this is how he’ll die. 

“Oh for God’s sake— just. Just _sit down_ ,” comes Seungmin’s exasperated voice from behind him, and he gratefully sinks to the floor, as if Seungmin’s permission was all he needed. Belatedly, in the hazy depths of his feverish mind, he registers that Seungmin coming back means he’s going to help him eat his food. The thought has him smiling faintly. 

“Not on the ground, you idiot. I meant the _chair._ Sit on the _chair_.” Seungmin groans, sounding wonderfully close to him, and that’s the last thing he hears before he finally knocks out cold, right there on the floor, Seungmin’s hand cold on his burning hot forehead. 

When he wakes up, Seungmin is standing over him like a hawk, albeit a much more beautiful one. There is worry evident in his eyes, which gives way to relief when Jisung lets out an extremely unpleasant croak, reassuring him that he is, unfortunately, still alive. 

“Fool.” Is the first thing Seungmin says to him, sounding not so much upset as glad. The relieved look on his face quickly turns to displeasure though, as it almost always does when Seungmin is addressing him. It seems that even during days full of sickness Seungmin can’t find pity for him. It’s heartbreaking, really, but also completely understandable. 

“How many times did I tell you,” Seungmin berates crossly, “‘Jisung, don’t forget to eat. Jisung, wear your coat when you go out. Jisung, do _not_ be an idiot.’ How many times?”

“So many times,” Jisung groans, letting his eyes fall shut. His head is hurting again, but he also doesn’t want Seungmin to shut up. Ever. 

“Then why didn’t you listen?” Seungmin responds, and this time, he doesn’t sound angry. Instead, his tone clearly depicts how agitated he is. Jisung’s heart twinges unpleasantly. He hadn’t meant to upset Seungmin. 

“I’m sorry, Seungminnie,” he whispers, peeling his eyes open. He gives Seungmin a mournful glance. He _is_ sorry, and he hopes Seungmin knows that. 

The angel opens his mouth to retort, but eventually decides against it. He deflates, like he doesn’t really know what to say. “Forget it,” he mutters finally, looking away from Jisung. “You need some food first.” He picks up the bowl of soup from earlier (had Jisung only been out for a few minutes, then?) and brings it in front of Jisung’s face. “Do you think you feel well enough to eat this by yourself?” 

“I dunno… I’ll try, though,” Jisung replies, hoisting himself up. His head immediately begins to throb when he does so. “Ow,” he moans. 

“What?” 

“My head hurts a lot,” he explains almost tearfully, and he hates how childish he sounds. But Seungmin looks genuinely sympathetic when he says, “I know, Jisung, but once you eat you can have some medicine and then you’ll feel better, okay?” The gentleness in his tone makes Jisung want to cry, which is so embarrassing that he flushes.

“Oh no, you’re turning pink again. Is the room too warm?” Seungmin asks worriedly, already walking over to the thermostat. 

“No! It’s fine. Don’t worry, Seungmin,” Jisung assures him, offering a little smile. “It’s seriously fine,” he adds, when Seungmin still doesn’t look convinced. 

“If you say so…” Seungmin mumbles, coming to stand by his side again. “Start eating your soup now,” he reminds him, handing him the bowl. Jisung accepts it gratefully, spooning the soup in his mouth. It’s warm, but tasteless. Or maybe it’s just the fever. 

“You finish eating this and I’ll get your medicine, okay?” The angel says, giving his head a soft pat. Jisung nearly faints again at the touch, and feels his heartbeat quicken. He nods sheepishly in response, hoping his cheeks aren’t as pink as he thinks they are, and continues eating. 

“Seungmin,” he says suddenly, just as the angel turns to leave. “I really am sorry… for everything. I should’ve listened to you, and I know I was really rude back then. I’m really grateful that you came back, so um, thank you for that. It’s… I’m seriously very sorry.” 

Seungmin smiles softly at him from the doorway, a stark contrast from his demeanor a few minutes ago. “It’s fine, really. I know I can come off as too overbearing sometimes, so I’m sorry too.”

“No,” Jisung argues. “I was really inconsiderate and-”

Seungmin lets out a laugh. “You can beat yourself up later, okay? Just eat your soup for now.” He gives Jisung one more fond glance and then walks out, shutting the door gently behind him. 

Jisung doesn’t stop smiling for the next few minutes.

On the fifth day of his flu-induced illness, Hyunjin comes to visit him. He hardly notices when the door creaks open which in itself is concerning, considering how it’s usually loud enough to bring a corpse back to life. But then again, he hardly notices anything nowadays; his fever feels like temporary lifelessness, really. 

“Hey man, you dead?” Is how Hyunjin opts to greet him, peering down at him with a concerned look on his face.

“Not yet,” Jisung croaks, blinking sleepily at him. His eyes feel so crusted around the edges it’s truly a wonder he can still see. And his _head_. His poor head is throbbing so hard it could probably produce enough energy to power a small motor. Grimacing, he tries to lift his hand to reassure Hyunjin, but watches as it falls back down pathetically. 

“You sure?” His friend asks worriedly, now staring fixedly at his limp arm. “You _look_ dead.” Hyunjin really has a unique way of showing he cares. 

“Yeah, man, I’m fine.” _All thanks to Seungmin_ , he adds silently to himself.

“Take care, dude. I had no idea you were this sick, y’know, else I would’ve come earlier.”

“S’okay,” Jisung replies, “Tell Lix and Minho hyung I said hi.” 

“Yeah, I will,” Hyunjin says, and gives Jisung one more sympathetic look before turning to leave. “Oh wait!” his friend exclaims, pausing at the doorway and smacking a hand to his forehead. “Winter break starts from the 17th, right after finals end. You probably didn’t check your emails recently, right?” 

“Oh, really? Yeah, I didn’t think of going through Gmail while I was… y’know… dying.” 

“Stop being such a drama,” Hyunjin jokes, and then hurriedly mumbles a goodbye to him before leaving. “And don’t forget to check your emails!” 

The day his exams end, Jisung begins packing. He’d planned on going home for winter break, since both his older brother and father were going to be away on some business trip, and his mother would be left alone at home. He’s looking forward to it – meeting his mom after months. 

He’s stuffing another sweater inside his suitcase when Seungmin saunters in, hands buried deep in his jeans’ pockets. He’s the perfect picture of nonchalance, and in all honesty, it’s quite attractive. Jisung would admire him more were it not for the fact that he was currently sitting in a room that appeared to have withstood a natural disaster. 

“What are you doing?” Seungmin asks, looking curiously at his already bulging suitcase. Jisung groans; he isn’t even halfway done yet. 

“Uh… packing?” 

“Oh, right!” Seungmin exclaims, realization dawning upon him. “You are going home for Christmas, right?” 

Jisung pauses, glancing at him in surprise. He hardly notices the sweater slipping slowly from his hands. “Yeah, how’d you know that?”

“Never mind how I know! You must be excited!” Seungmin says, seating himself on the edge of Jisung’s bed. He sounds so enthusiastic that Jisung wonders for a moment if he’s faking it. One look at the angel proves him wrong, however; there is genuine ardor in his eyes. And really, Jisung should’ve known that already. Seungmin is as transparent as glass, crystal clear, almost. He’s sharp, keen, and very, _very_ honest. For some reason, this makes Jisung’s heart swell. 

He is so unbelievably fond of Seungmin.

“Oh, yeah,” Jisung responds after a few moments, having completely lost track of their conversation earlier. “I’m really excited to meet my mom again. I missed her a lot.” 

“That sounds nice,” Seungmin beams, but there’s a wistfulness in his voice that Jisung does not miss. “Do you… um…” he begins, hesitant. He doesn’t really know how to phrase his question. “Do angels have families?”

Seungmin looks at him in astonishment, like he hadn’t expected that question at all. He blinks, and then his face breaks out into a blinding smile, eyes scrunching into tiny crescents. “Jisung, you _are_ precious!” he exclaims fondly, and leans over to pat his head.

“What?” Jisung splutters, equal parts flustered and confused. His cheeks are probably red by now, and it’s all because Seungmin is just so unpredictable sometimes. “Angels do not have families,” Seungmin laughs, but it’s a quiet sort of laugh, tinged with a hint of sadness. “Not like mankind, anyway.” 

“So you don’t have parents?” Jisung asks, and watches with something akin to pity as the angel shakes his head. “We do not experience maternal love the way you do,” Seungmin explains, looking down at his hands. 

Jisung can’t imagine it, not being raised by his mother. He has a sudden urge to hug Seungmin, to reassure him that he’ll always be there for him and take care of him. He doesn't know what exactly propels him to do just that – the sad smile on the angel’s face or the way he avoids Jisung’s gaze – but the next thing Jisung knows, he’s taking two steps forward and engulfing Seungmin in the biggest hug he can offer. 

Seungmin involuntarily leans back into his chair, and lets out an aborted noise at the back of his throat, stilling for a few moments. He seems visibly shocked, from what little Jisung can see of his face, the tips of his ears reddening slowly, the blush creeping down all the way to his neck. In a few moments, though, he relaxes, and tentatively wraps his arms around Jisung, whose heartbeat quickens. Seungmin smells … fresh. Like soap, and fabric conditioner. There’s a lingering hint of some cologne as well, which has Jisung leaning in closer. Jisung realizes belatedly that this is the first time he and Seungmin have ever embraced, and the thought has him feeling warm all over. 

When he pulls back, after around half a minute or so, he finds Seungmin looking up at him with wide, unblinking eyes. He still seems to be in shock, as if finally registering what had just taken place. There’s a faint smattering of pink on his cheeks which makes Jisung’s heart expand in his chest; Seungmin is just so lovely. 

Finally, the angel breaks out of his trance-like state and smiles hesitantly at Jisung. “I am not really sure what that was for,” he begins, his voice as warm as the winter sun, “but it made me feel very nice. Thank you.” 

“I’m glad it uh, made you feel… nice.” Jisung responds lamely, because he is, in fact, unable to handle such situations. He turns his back to Seungmin and plops down on the ground again, trying to finish his packing. Seungmin watches in silence, occasionally offering bits of advice as to how Jisung could fit a particularly large sweater or an extra pair of boots. And this, _this_ is what Jisung had missed the most; just the two of them together, doing the most mundane of things and yet finding comfort in them.

Needless to say, he finishes packing with a full suitcase and an even fuller heart. 

They arrive in Incheon nearly two days before Christmas. Jisung had informed his mother as an afterthought that he’d be bringing a friend along, and she had been all too happy at the prospect of having another mouth to feed. Whereas Jisung’s mother had delightedly accepted her son’s plans to let Seungmin stay over, it had been hard to convince Seungmin himself to come home with him; the angel was adamant on becoming a ‘Silent Guard’, which was the act of invisible vigilance that the majority of guardian angels practiced. In short, Seungmin would _still_ be with him, but just not visible, and that was the real problem. Jisung had gotten used to seeing him everyday, and to not be able to spend time with him on Christmas, of all occasions, seemed much too cruel. 

(“I will be perfectly fine as a Silent Guard,” Seungmun argues, glaring at Jisung as if to make a point. Jisung merely rolls his eyes. 

“This Silent Guard thing is so stupid and unnecessary. It’s not like you speak that much, anyway,” he scowls, looking up at the angel, whose brows furrow in both exasperation and amusement. “It’ll only be for a few days, Jisung. And I’ll still be there, remember? You just won’t be able to see me for a while.” Seungmin says, his tone a lot more gentle now. 

“Yeah, but that’s the _point._ I want to celebrate Christmas with you! It’ll be so much fun, Seungmin, _please_.” 

“Jisung–”

“You can’t say no! I’ve already told my mom you’re coming, and you don’t want to disappoint my _mother,_ do you?” Jisung grins, and watches with pure glee as Seungmin’s resolve slowly begins to crumble.

He gives Seungmin a quick hug. “You won’t regret it!” he promises, and mirrors the reluctantly growing smile on the angel’s face.)

“Oh, that’s my mom!” Jisung exclaims, pointing frantically in the general direction of a woman a few feet away from them. She, like them, was scanning the crowd for a familiar face. The two of them begin waving madly to grab her attention, and soon enough, her face brightens with recognization and she makes her way over to them. 

They exchange greetings, and Jisung nearly bursts out laughing when Seungmin bows down at an angle of precisely ninety degrees, spewing out words of thanks and apologies to his mother. So prim and proper as always, Jisung thinks. He takes one look at his mother and knows for certain that she’s already fallen for Seungmin’s bright eyes and charming smile. _Might as well head out now,_ he thinks, _before my own mother replaces her son with his guardain angel, of all people._

“Oh, dear, what on _Earth_ are you saying sorry for?” Jisung’s mother laughs when Seungmin mutters another apology for incoveniencing her, patting Seungmin’s cheek fondly. “I’m so glad to have you!” Seungmin beams at her words, and when they’re all seated inside the car, he mouths a small thank you to Jisung. Jisung looks away, too giddy to say anything in return. 

Once the two of them had settled in, both in Jisung’s room (a spare mattress had been laid out for Seungmin), Jisung decided to give the angel a house tour. Seungmin, however, was too busy examining Jisung’s room. 

“It’s a lot cleaner than our apartment,” he remarks, nodding in approval at his closet. 

“Well, obviously. Do you think my mom would let you see my room in a mess?” Jisung replies, and grins when Seungmin snickers. “That’s true,” he concedes, running his fingers over the sky blue dinosaur wallpaper Jisung has had since he was a child. 

He hums happily; having Seungmin over was already proving to be a good decision. 

The morning before Christmas, it begins to snow. When Jisung opens his eyes to stare blearily out of the window, he sees that everything outside is covered in a thick, white blanket. He lets out a pleased hum; in Jisung’s opinion, snow was probably nature’s best gift to mankind.

Behind him, Seungmin shifts on his own mattress. “It’s been snowing since four am,” he explains when he sees Jisung admiring the scenery outside. Jisung whistles in wonder. “Makes sense, look at how much there is!”

For a few minutes, he stays like that, watching the snow, and then suddenly his stomach lets out a frightful noise which has Seungmin chortling. “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” Seungmin teases.

“Haha,” Jisung deadpans, rolling his eyes. ”Anyway, get up! My mom’s probably made breakfast by now, and then we can go outside!” he adds with a nudge. 

“She made breakfast _centuries_ ago. You sleep for too long,” Seungmin complains, stretching a little before jumping out of his bed. His rumpled hair makes Jisung smile. “Did you have breakfast then?”

“I did not. I told your mother we would eat together. And then we sat for awhile and bonded over our mutual dislike for you,” Seungmin grins, eyes turning into little crescents. He thinks he’s being cheeky, which is so endearing in itself. 

“Hey, that’s _mean_ ,” Jisung whines, and then pauses. “Aw, wait. You waited for me at breakfast? So sweet, Seungminnie~” he coos, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Seungmin swats his hand away, mumbling something about him being _so_ annoying. Jisung notes, rather delightedly, that both of Seungmin’s cheeks are flushed a pale pink, although he had only pinched one. The thought makes him grin. He rarely ever gets to see Seungmin flustered, so when he does, he makes sure to permanently etch that memory into his brain. 

“Your mother is lovely, by the way,” Seungmin comments while Jisung brushes his teeth. “I’ve never met anyone as sweet as her. And do you know, she’s promised to knit me a sweater as well!” He sounds so excited that Jisung turns to look at him. 

“I told her not to,” Seungmin adds breathlessly, mistaking Jisung’s look of endearment for disapproval, “but she kept insisting and I felt it was disrespectful to keep arguing so I said okay but if–“

“Seungmin,” Jisung laughs through a mouthful of toothpaste, cutting him off as gently as possible. “It’s just a sweater. You don’t have to explain anything, really.”

“It is just a sweater to you, maybe,” Seungmin responds, “but I’ve never had anyone knit so much as a handkerchief for me! It means a lot.” 

The sincerity in his tone makes Jisung want to smile, but he doesn’t, in case Seungmin thinks he’s mocking him. “You’re right. My mom is pretty great,” Jisung agrees, spitting out the toothpaste.

“Now let’s go have some breakfast. I’m starving.”

When they finally go downstairs, his mother is already setting the table for the two of them. “I heard you boys talking,” she explains, noting their confused glances. “And good morning, Jisung. Do you know Seungmin has been up since seven, waiting for you? Poor boy.”

“It’s really no problem, Auntie!” Seungmin reassures her hurriedly. “I usually have breakfast late anyway.” 

“Sorry, Ma,” Jisung pouts, swooping in to press a little kiss on her cheek. 

“Don’t say sorry to me, say sorry to your friend,” she scolds, although there’s no real bite to her voice and there’s a pleasant smile on her face anyway. Jisung rolls his eyes. “Sorry, Seungmin,” he says, and sighs at the playful grin Seungmin sends his way. If only his mother knew that Seungmin didn’t really _need_ to have breakfast. 

“Ma,” Jisung says a few minutes later, through a mouthful of egg and toast. Seungmin wrinkles his nose in disgust at him. “Seungmin and I will go out for a bit after breakfast to see the snow and everything, okay?”

“Alright, dear. Just make sure to wear your coats and gloves. It’s gotten a lot colder recently,” she calls from the hallway. 

“Mhm,” he promises, and hurries to finish his breakfast. 

The moment they’ve cleared up the table, Jisung drags Seungmin outside. They’re both bundled up in layers and layers of outwear, which Jisung’s mom had forced upon them. 

(“There’s barely any flesh on the two of you. One gust of wind and you’ll be blown away!” she had scolded, fussing over their clothes.”)

Seungmin laughs at him. “You look funny.”

“I look _cute._ ” Jisung argues, and cheers inwardly when Seungmin nods concedingly. “Just a tiny bit, though!” He adds quickly, never one to dish out compliments for Jisung. Still, he considers it a victory. 

He watches as Seungmin turns to look upwards at the sky, little flakes of snow falling around him, and quickly throws himself on the ground before the angel can chide him for being reckless. He can’t remember the last time he had made a snow angel, and it’s with sheer excitement that he begins to make one now. 

“Why are you lying down like that on the snow? You do know you can get a cold that way, right?” Seungmin’s voice calls out only a few moments later, and Jisung cranes his neck to glance at him. He nearly laughs at the look of sheer disapproval evident on Seungmin’s face. “It’s fine! I’m making a snow angel,” he clarifies.

“A snow angel?” Seungmin asks, tilting his head to one side in confusion. Jisung nearly melts at the sight. 

“Yeah!” 

Seungmin stays quiet for a while, long enough that Jisung goes back to making his snow angel. He’s a few seconds in when suddenly Seungmin lets out a laugh, clear and bubbly. 

Jisung sits up abruptly, his back slightly damp from the snow. “What? Why’re you laughing?” he questions, genuinely confused. He doesn’t understand what’s so funny, really. He also doesn’t understand how Seungmin’s laugh sounds so angelic. 

Oh, right. He _is_ an angel. 

Seungmin’s eyes twinkle. “You said you’re making a snow angel, right?”

“Yeah...?”

“Well,” he giggles again, cheeks flushed. “If you covered me in snow would I not be a snow angel as well?” 

Jisung’s breath hitches as he stares at Seungmin. At his rosy cheeks and eyes bright with amusement. At the snow falling gently around him like a soft, white blanket. At his hands clasped tightly together in excitement. He _looks_ like an angel. 

He feels dizzy all of a sudden. 

“Hey,” Seungmin calls softly, coming to stand closer to him. He’s stopped laughing now, eyes clouded with concern. “Do you feel alright? You look strange.”

Jisung swallows thickly. “I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look it,” Seungmin replies sharply, but there is worry etched on his face. “You won’t faint again, will you?” He sounds serious now. Clearly he had not gotten over Jisung passing out a few days ago. Jisung feels a pang of remorse. 

“No, no. Don’t worry!” Jisung replies reassuringly. 

“Oh, well. If you’re sure…” The angel finally says, and _he_ sounds unsure now. “Was my joke not funny, though?” 

“Huh? What joke?” Jisung mumbles in confusion, glancing at the angel, who rolls his eyes exasperatedly. “The angel one! Snow angel!” Seungmin explains impatiently, waving his arms in annoyance. “It was funny, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Definitely,” Jisung lies, and watches as Seungmin grimaces. “You’re a terrible liar,” he remarks, and then bends down to scoop a handful of snow.

“Ooh, what are you doi—” Jisung begins, but never manages to finish as a snowball comes flying at his face. 

“Snowball fight! We shall fight to the death!” Seungmin shrieks, and begins running around the garden like a madman, his laughter ringing in Jisung’s ears. It takes him a few seconds to process exactly what’s going on, with the snow numbing his face and slowly sliding down his coat. When realization finally sinks in, he lets out a yell, gathering snow in his arms and chasing Seungmin. 

“Kim Seungmin!” he hollers, and Seungmin screeches in both fear and delight, sprinting faster than ever. “You can’t catch me, Jisung,” he shouts without looking back, “your legs are too short!” 

“Long legs mean nothing,” Jisung smirks, and with a guttural cry, pounces on the angel. Seungmin lets out one last scream before falling to the ground, bringing Jisung, whose arms are wrapped tightly around Seungmin’s frame, down with him. The snow cushions their fall, and for a few seconds they simply writhe on the ground, twisting this way and that. 

_Finally_ , Jisung, who by this point is gasping for breath, manages to get Seungmin underneath him. Seungmin realizes what’s happening much too late, because by then, Jisung has his legs locked on either side of the angel’s lower body, his hands buried in the snow beneath them. With wide eyes begging for mercy, Seungmin looks up at him. “Jisung,” he pleads, but Jisung pays no heed. “What was it that you said only a few moments ago?” he says, smiling innocently, “‘We fight to the death’, right? Isn’t that what you said, Seungminnie?”

“No! Get off me!” Seungmin yells, struggling underneath him.“Hm, I don’t think so,” Jisung grins, and digs his fingers into either side of Seungmin’s stomach. “You wouldn’t…” Seungmin gasps. “Too late, Seungminnie,” Jisung singsongs, and watches gleefully as the angel goes rigid for a spilt second, eyes widening in horror, before he bursts into a fit of helpless giggles as Jisung begins tickling him mercilessly. 

“Nooooooo! Help!” Seungmin screeches, red in the face from laughing so hard. “Jisung get off me!” he manages to say in between giggles, slapping Jisung’s arm. This only propels him to tickle harder, and he watches in amusement as Seungmin goes red in the face with silent laughter. Finally, after Seungmin is too out of breath to even laugh, Jisung relents, sliding off the angel and laying down beside him. He breathes in and out for a few moments, trying to steady his erratic heartbeat. 

“That was fun,” Seungmin says breathlessly a few moments later, after he’s finally stopped chuckling. Jisung nods in assent. That _was_ fun. He can’t remember the last time he had laughed so hard. Just thinking of it makes him grin, and he turns his head sideways to look at Seungmin. His cheeks flush when he notices that the angel had already been looking at him, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, they stay that way for a few moments, simply looking into each other’s eyes. Jisung can feel his heart racing again, but he remains still. 

Seungmin is beautiful. There’s no other way to explain it. It’s not the first time he’s realized this, of course, but something feels different now, a subtle shift in their dynamics. Seungmin is beautiful like no one else Jisung has ever seen before, and there are so many words clouding Jisung’s head that he feels tongue tied. For a moment, for just a split second, Jisung considers risking it all and leaning in to kiss Seungmin. The angel is so close to him, barely an arm’s length away, and Jisung is so hopelessly infatuated with him at this point. This sudden realization has his head spinning, and he momentarily closes his eyes to rid himself of those intrusive thoughts. 

“What are you thinking, hm?” Seungmin says finally, breaking the silence, and Jisung immediately comes back down to Earth. He’ll have to sort out his feelings for Seungmin later. 

“Hello. Are you still there?” Seungmin whispers with gleaming eyes. He taps Jisung’s nose with his index, making him go slightly cross-eyed for a moment. 

“Hi,” Jisung breathes, and through the curves of his eyelashes, he can see Seungmin’s lips twitch into a smile. “We should go inside,” Seungmin says, still looking into Jisung’s eyes. They’re so bright, so _pretty_. Jisung can’t stop staring at them. 

“Hm,” Jisung nods. “We should.” But neither of them make any effort to move or head back inside, and for another few minutes they just lay there on the snow, basking in the warmth of their silence. 

When they finally traipse back inside, shrugging off their damp coats, Jisung remembers with a jolt that he’d bought Seungmin a gift for Christmas. He’s racing up the stairs before he even knows it, the angel trailing after him in confusion. He looks even more perplexed when he finds Jisung rummaging inside his suitcase instead of heading towards the bathroom. “You ran up so fast, I thought you had come up to relieve yourself…” Seungmin mumbles, eyes fixed on Jisung, who snorts. “No, silly, I wanted to give you–” he breaks off, struggling to wrap his fingers around the package buried amongst a truckload of his clothes, “–this!”

He whirls around to face Seungmin, clutching the clumsily wrapped gift in his hands. Seungmin eyes it curiously. “What is that?” he asks, shifting his gaze from the package to Jisung’s face. 

“This,” Jisung answers, beaming at him, “is your Christmas present!” He watches as the confusion in Seungmin’s eyes dissipates, brightening in mere seconds as his lips slowly stretch into a wide smile. “For me?” The look of delighted surprise on his face makes Jisung’s heart swell with affection, and he nods enthusiastically, thrusting it into his hands. “Here, open it!” 

“Oh, alright,” Seungmin relents, sitting cross-legged on the bed. His fingers fumble with the wrapping for a moment, and then he pauses, blinking at Jisung. “Why are you giving it to me now, though? Why not on Christmas?”

“For Christmas I have another present!” Jisung hums, and grins as Seungmin gapes at him. “Another present?” he says, shaking his head. “That’s too much, Sungie. You’re already letting me stay in your house–”

Jisung cuts him off, ignoring how his heart flutters at the nickname. “Seungmin, honestly, you’re doing my mom and I favour by staying here. She’s never been happier.” Seungmin looks down, cheeks pink. “Seriously,”Jisung adds, “it’s nothing. And open the present, it’s not that special anyway.”

“It’s the thought that counts, and the fact that you thought of buying this for me makes it all the more special,” Seungmin says sincerely, and begins unwrapping. Jisung, meanwhile, tries not to melt into a puddle at his words. The angel will most definitely be the death of him. 

“Oh!” Seungmin exclaims suddenly, clutching the presents in his hand. He turns to face Jisung, who holds back a smile at the confusion on his face. “I don’t understand–”

“That,” he explains, pointing to the first item; a cassette, “is a mixtape I made for you. It’s got songs in it that remind– that I think you’ll like. I have an old cassette player that you can borrow to listen to it!”

“Jisung, that’s so sweet of you. I love it,” the angel says warmly. “Especially the painting you’ve done over it,” he adds with a laugh, referring to the little stick figure angel Jisug had drawn on the case. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he says hastily, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Anyway, the book in your other hand,” he continues, pointing to the Harry Potter book, (he had considered getting him a copy of Percy Jackson first, but figured that maybe the thought of children cursing gods wouldn’t sit right with an angel, and went with Harry Potter instead) “it’s something I used to read a lot as a kid - it’s like a chunk of my childhood. And one of the characters in it reminds me a lot of you, actually. She’s a know-it-all, too.”

Seungmin laughs, bright and lovely. “I am _not_ a know-it-all! I’m just right most of the time!”

“Know-it-all!” Jisung begins chanting, but stops abruptly when Seungmin comes to stand in front of him. Jisung stills, his heart crawling upto his throat. Seungmin is so close to him. He watches, hardly breathing, as the angel takes one more step towards him and gently pulls him into a hug, arms wrapped loosely around him. His heart is pounding madly in his chest, and he’s certain that Seungmin can hear it.

“Thank you, Sungie. It means a lot to me, more than I can say, actually,” Seungmin mumbles into his shoulder, squeezing one of his hands lightly. “It’s nothing,” Jisung replies, clearing his throat. “You’ve done a lot for me that I don’t thank you enough for, and this is… not a lot so you really don’t–”

“What makes you think you have to thank me for all that?” Seungmin interjects, pulling back with a shake of his head. Jisung mourns silently at the loss of contact. “It’s my job, remember?”

 _Not all of it,_ Jisung wants to say. _Staying up late with me so I can finish my work, doing my chores for me, taking care of me when I’m down… that’s not part of your job._ There’s a hundred other things he can think of on the spot, but he stays silent, knowing that Seungmin would merely brush aside his response. He forces a smile instead, and pokes Seungmin left cheek – it’s the chubbier of the two, he had discovered. “Well, thank you anyway.” 

The smile Seungmin gives him in response is bright enough to rival the sun.

The next few days pass by in a flurry. Jisung digs out his dad’s old cassette player from their garage and gives it to Seungmin, who learns with excitement akin to a child discovering marbles for the first time, exactly how to operate it. Jisung watches as his eyes light up the moment he inserts the cassette and the first few notes of Busker-Busker’s Yeosu Night Sea begin playing. 

There’s something beautiful about the way Seungmin sways to the music, eyes falling shut as he does so. Occasionally, he would let out a pleased hum, nodding along to the lyrics. And maybe it’s taken him long enough, but as Jisung listens to the angel singing along softly under his breath, he begins to realize that he likes Seungmin… a lot. More than just a friend, or a roommate, and especially more than just his guardian angel. 

He feels conflicted. If, miraculously, Seungmin happened to feel the same as him, would it even be possible for a human and an angel, of all of God’s creations, to maintain a non-platonic relationship? And that too when Seungmin was his _guardian_ angel? He looks up, and when he sees that Seungmin is still very much immersed in the song, he reaches for his phone and texts Minho, who’s the only person – or angel, whatever – that he can think of asking for help right now. 

**me:**

[ **11:17] HYUNG HYUNG HYUNG HELLO**

**[11:17] HYUNG ????**

**[11:18] I SAW A KITTEN HYUNG** ****

**cat dad:**

**[11:20] WHERE**

**[11:20] where***

**me:**

**[11:21] tsundere mf**

**[11:21] ok hi sorry theres no actual kitten i just had 2 summon u somehow**

**cat dad:**

**[11:21] … ur terrible han jisung i hope u know**

**[11:22] what is it ?? spit it out**

**me:**

**[11:23] stop being mean : <**

**[11:23] anyway i just wanted 2 ask if youve ever dated a human before??**

**cat dad:**

**[11:24] why? is this ur way of confessing ur undying love 4 me ;)**

**[11:24] and yes i have… i still am actually**

**me:**

**[11:25] UR WHAT???? UR DATING ???**

**cat dad:**

**[11:26] YES ??? ur channie hyung,** **remember?**

 **me:** ****

**[11:26] HDKWBEKEJ?/ &:?/&:3!&34!**

**[11:27] UR DATING CHAN HYUNG????**

**[11:27] OMG OGMMDND WAIT LET ME TELL LIX N HYUNJIN !!! THEY WILL D1E**

**cat dad:**

**[11:27] … everyone knows already dingus**

**[11:28] ive told u twice before how do u keep forgetting**

**me:**

**[11:29] WHEN?? WHEN DID U TELL ME**

**[11:30] actually wait rhats not the point. i wanted 2 ask**

**[11:30] do u and hyung have problems bc u know . ur an angel and he’s a human and stuff**

**cat dad:** ********

**[11:31] no..? he thinks it’s pretty cool actually**

**[11:32] if ur asking about the higher angel ,, then that’s not that big of a problem either. u have to go through a certain process which takes a while but that’s about it**

**[11:33] why do u ask?**

**me:**

**[11:34] no reason :D**

**[11:34] and thanks hyung!! have a merry christmas** ~~

**cat dad:**

**[11:35] u too. tell seungminnie hyung says hi <3**

Jisung switches his phone off with a relieved sigh. He feels a lot more lighter than before, his conversation with Minho having eased some of his concerns. With a burst of newfound energy, he nudges Seungmin, shaking him out of his music-induced trance. 

“What?” Seungmin grumbles, pressing the pause button. He looks cute, like a grumpy elf. Jisung can’t help but smile. 

“I told you for Christmas I’d get you another present, right? We’ll have to go outside for that, so get up.”

“But I’m so tired,” Seungmin pouts, voice a touch more nasally than usual. “Lies!” Jisung exclaims. “Minho hyung told me angels don’t feel fatigue at all, unless they’re severely injured or overworked, which you’re _not_.” 

“Who says I’m not overworked? You’re like an infant trapped inside an adolescent’s body.” Seungmin fires back, but he lets Jisung pull him up anyway. 

He grumbles all the way downstairs, putting on his coat and the pink woollen scarf Jisung had attempted to knit for him. It’s a very endearing sight. 

“If it’s another snowball fight, I will kill you, Han Jisung,” Seungmin threatens, heading outside, but the ominous effect he had hoped for is lost in the many layers of clothes he’s wearing. He looks rather like an overdressed penguin, if anything, what with him being all bundled up with only his cheeks poking out from above his collar. 

“It’s not! It’s just a cafe I really like. They’ve got the best desserts and I really wanted you to try their angel cake.”

Seungmin halts, turning around to look at Jisung with wide eyes. He seems horrified. “Angel cake, did you say?”

“Yes…?” Jisung replies, unsure. What was so scary about angel cake, of all things? 

“Are angels...” Seungmin begins, looking a bit queasy. “Are angels part of the recipe?”

Jisung stops. He scans Seungmin’s face again to confirm whether he’s joking or not, and nope, there’s not a hint of mirth on his face; he’s completely serious. “ _What?”_ he says finally, because that’s all he can’t think of saying, really. He can’t help it – he’s never heard anything _that_ ridiculous before. “Seungmin, how did you even – what made you think _angels_ …? Oh my God…” 

**“** It’s not _my_ fault! What were they thinking, naming food after my kind?”

Jisung has to physically restrain himself from bursting out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “It’s just a name! There’s all sorts of desserts like that; devil’s food cake–“

“Not the devil too?!”

 **“–** chocolate heaven cake, molten lava cake… there are so many.”

“Oh, alright,” Seungmin huffs. “Humans are so strange.” 

Jisung grins, taking a few steps forward, Seungmin in tow. “Tell me about it.” 

A few minutes into their walk, punctuated by aimless chatter and little gasps of awe from Seungmin as he spots a particularly cute dog or a another fascinating store, Jisung can’t help but notice how with every step they take, they seem to encounter more and more people. He tries focusing on what Seungmin’s saying to distract himself, but there’s a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, and the familiar pin-pricks of anxiousness begin stabbing at his heart. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, sucks in a deep breath as quietly as he can so as not to alert Seungmin. He just has to remain calm. 

The angel, however, is perceptive as always. He halts suddenly and takes a step closer towards Jisung, making their shoulders brush momentarily. 

“What?” Jisung asks, turning to look at him. His voice comes out muffled through his mask. 

“Crowds make you feel uncomfortable, don’t they? And according to you, we’re still quite a way from the cafe... ” Seungmin says, eyes skimming over his face in concern. Jisung tries to act normal; he’s still not used to this… whatever this might be. 

“Uh, what?” _Where did that come from so suddenly,_ he thinks. 

“Well, there _are_ quite a number of people ahead of us, and I know for a fact that, that makes you feel a bit anxious,” Seungmin explains, patient eyes never leaving Jisung’s face. “Or am I wrong?” he adds, when he takes in Jisung’s bewildered expression.

“No, you’re not wrong,” Jisung replies. “But it’s fine, I guess? I mean, it’s–”

Seungmin cuts him off, sighing in exasperation. “This boy– Would you feel more comfortable if we held hands?” 

Jisung’s eyes widen, cheeks warming slightly. He feels flustered all of a sudden. “I mean, yeah but are you sure–” Seungmin shakes his head impatiently. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.” 

“Ooh-kay then,” Jisung stutters, and feels his heart race as Seungmin offers him a small but kind smile, slipping his much warmer, gloved hand into his and completely encasing it. 

It feels like a dream. 

Seungmin gently tugs him forward, slowing down so he can match Jisung’s comparatively relaxed pace. Their footsteps in sync, they march onwards, Jisung feeling a lot better than before. Seungmin starts humming softly under his breath. It’s something melodious and sweet, and he can feel his heartbeat slowing, steadying. If he wasn’t hyper-focused on the warmth of the angel’s hand, he would’ve fallen asleep standing. His tension slowly ebbs, and he feels his shoulders going lax. And no matter how hard he tries, the smile on his face just doesn’t fade.

Seungmin works miracles, sometimes. 

A week later, they return to Seoul. Jisung’s mother sees them off at the train station, her eyes wet around the edges. Seungmin, donned in the sweater she had knitted for him, seems to be tearing up as well. He’d cried the first time she had given it to him, hugging her so tightly that Jisung had felt his own heart constrict. Sometimes he felt that Seungmin had been robbed of a lot of simple yet necessary things in his youth. 

“I can’t have both of you crying! It makes _me_ look like a douchebag,” Jisung complains, breaking the somewhat somber silence. 

“Language,” the two of them say at once, and then laugh rather weakly. It’s apparent that they’re trying their best not to cry. 

“Oh, well,” Jisung’s mother says finally, her voice shaky, “I shouldn’t keep you boys waiting. Go on, now. Shoo!”

“Bye, Ma. Take care, okay? I’ll send some stuff for you with hyung if he drops by,” Jisung says, bending to give her a firm kiss on the cheek and hugging her tightly for a while. He gently wipes the tears in her eyes, making her promise not to cry again. 

And then it’s Seungmin’s turn. The angel has to bend even lower, considering his height, and blinks furiously as Jisung’s mother hugs him tightly, patting his cheek with so much affection that Seungmin almost tears up again. “Thank you so much for having me, Auntie,” he mumbles into her shoulder. “I had the most wonderful time. I really cannot thank you enough.”

“Oh, hush, dear. Having you stay with us was the most joyful experience. You _must_ visit as often as possible, alright?”

After Seungmin promises that he will, of course, try his best to show up at their house on any possible occasion, she gives both of them one last hug and sends them off, waving cheerfully at them. 

They manage to board the train on time, throwing themselves into their seats. It’s an hour-long journey, and not even halfway through, Jisung falls asleep, his head resting on Seungmin’s shoulder. The angel doesn’t say a word, completely engrossed in the Harry Potter Jisung has gifted him. He’d fessed earlier that he was really enjoying reading it, and Jisung had silently made up his mind to buy him the rest of the series as well. 

He’s woken up – after what seems like seconds but actually turns out to be nearly half an hour according to his phone – by Seungmin, who looks annoyingly as fresh as ever. He smirks teasingly at Jisung’s dishevelled state, and then hands him a small candy to help him feel a bit more alert. 

They make quick work of dragging their luggage outside, and after finally managing to hail a cab, they reach their apartment in less than fifteen minutes. 

“Home sweet home,” Jisung sighs happily, ignoring Seungmin’s sound of disapproval as he drops his suitcase right by the door and makes a beeline for his room. 

“Are you seriously going to sleep right now?” Seungmin asks, slight disappointment evident in his tone. Jisung halts, turning around to look at him. He’d forgotten that angels didn’t sleep, and that in his absence (while he was sleeping, for example) Seungmin would find other means of entermaintment. Right now, however, it seemed that the angel was in no mood to scavenge for something to amuse him, and was relying on Jisung to do so. 

“No,” he lies quickly. “Just wanted to freshen up.” 

Seungmin beams, and Jisung silently lauds himself for being such a convincing liar, sometimes. “Can we watch a movie? We never really got to finish that castle one.” Seungmin asks, very conveniently leaving out the reason they hadn’t been able to finish watching it. (Read: Jisung had yet again fallen asleep).

“Howl’s Moving Castle? Sure! Let me get my laptop.”

He changes hurriedly, making sure to not kick his clothes in one corner of his room should Seungmin’s scrutizing eyes spot them again, and grabs his laptop before entering Seungmin’s room. He rarely ever visits the angel’s room, since he’s in class most of the time and Seungmin either lounges in their living room or spend times with Jisung in his’. As expected, Seungmin’s room is a lot like him – pristine, tidy and smelling remarkably of soap. Jisung was tempted to ask him if he took his room to bathe with him too. 

Seungmin lets out a pleased hum at Jisung’s less dishevelled appearance. “Since you _seem_ clean I’ll let you sit on my bed.”

Jisung bows rather flamboyantly in mock gratitude, hair flipping forward. “Thank you!” he cries. 

“Shut up,” Seungmin laughs, and very carefully slides into his bed. “Be sure not to get any wrinkles on my bed sheet,” he warns Jisung who grins cheekily at him, and gripping his laptop tightly in both hands, all but jumps into Seungmin’s bed. “Oops,” he says with an innocent smile.

Seungmin sighs, drawn out and exasperated. “Just play the movie,” he grumbles with no real bite, and Jisung obliges. He shifts closer to Seungmin, so that their shoulders are somewhat pressed together. The angel lets out a sound of mild disgruntlement but says nothing. Still, there’s the slightest trace of a smile on his face, and it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide it. And although movie nights are common enough for the two of them, especially since Jisung got Seungmin hooked on all the Ghibli films he had watched as a child himself. Tonight, however, it feels different. Maybe it’s the erratic, unsteady beating of his own heart every time he catches Seungmin looking at him, or the way Seungmin’s cheeks flush in the dark whenever their hands brush under the blanket. Whatever it is, there’s one thing Jisung knows for sure; he needs to talk to Minho about this soon as possible.

Almost a week after their return, Jisung’s university reopens after Christmas break. Changbin – Hyunjin’s friend who was a year above them – had warned them that their second semester would be a lot more tough than the first one, and that they’d have to work twice as hard to attain a decent grade. Even Hyunjin, who hated the library and everything it stood for, was found cooped up inside with Felix and Jisung alongside him, the three of them trying their best to scrape at least a C in their classes.

Sometimes, Jisung would drag Seungmin along to sit with them in the library, wanting him to be there physically rather than being a Silent Guard. The angel would always oblige, albiet reluctantly, and would sit there busying himself with a book or helping them out by quizzing them on a chapter they were struggling with.

After a particularly taxing day in the library, (the librarian had kicked them out for sneaking in snacks for the fifth time that month), the four of them walk home rather morosely. 

“The _one_ time we’re actually making an effort to study,” Felix sighs, adjusting his backpack for the nth time. 

“The universe believes we are destined for greater things,” Hyunjin replies sagely, which results in a snort from Jisung who hastily covers it up with a cough. “Anyway,” Hyunjin says, shooting a dirty look in Jisung’s direction “we’ll have to study from home now for the next few days anyway. Maybe the librarian will forget about us…?” 

“Right,” Felix says sardonically, and the scowl on his face makes Jisung think that he’s reliving a particularly horrible memeory. “She’s always after me because my sister didn’t return a book on time. My sister graduated _four years ago._ ”

Jisung shudders. “Let’s just hope for the best. I still have to do my stupid socio thing and I _need_ the library for that.”

The others nod in agreement, still evidently disgruntled, and bid each other farewell while heading to their respective dorms. 

“What do you do all day when I’m in class, anyway? Don’t you get tired of just monitoring me?” Jisung asks, finally giving up on his research for his sociology assignment. He wasn’t going to pass anyway, considering how their dropping by at the library wouldn’t be welcome anytime soon, so there was really no point in trying. And questioning Seungmin, he had quickly learnt, was always an interesting approach to killing time. 

Seungmin looks up from the book he’s reading; one of Jisung’s old copies of To Kill a Mockingbird. “Oh, well, most of the time I do whatever you’re doing. I usually just seat myself at the back of whatever classroom you are in– mostly to keep an eye on you,” he adds cheekily. 

“Pause. You attend my lectures?” Jisung asks, staring at him in disbelief. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

Seungmin laughs at the incredulous look on his face. “It’s my job, silly. I’m supposed to be with you constantly, remember? And to be honest, it’s actually not that bad. I even have my cellphone to keep me company whenever a lecture gets too boring.”

Jisung’s jaw drops. “You have a _phone_? What kind of angel are you, anyway?”

“Of course I have a phone. How do you think I stay in touch with my friends and superiors?” Seungmin snorts, and Jisung gapes at him in response. Since when did angels have phones? “That’s… wow. What kind do you have?”

Seungmin shrugs. “I do not know much about technology. You can see for yourself.” He pulls out a thin, sleek, slab of metal out of his pocket and hands it over to Jisung. Even before he holds it, he _knows_ it’s an iPhone 11. What the fuck. His own tiny iPhone 6s with its cracked screen protector and broken camera seems pathetic next to it. 

_God really did give angels everything_ , Jisung thinks. 

“You can use it if you want,” Seungmin offers with a gentle smile. “I do not really use it that often. Only when I am bored, or if there is something very important.”

Jisung grins. “You’re too sweet, Seungminnie,” he says, only half jokingly, “but my own phone will feel a bit betrayed if yours succeeds in seducing me.” 

He looks down at his notebook again, trying to refocus on his assignment. He completely misses the way Seungmin’s cheeks redden at the pet name. 

“I really do not mind. I _am_ your guardian angel, after all. Whatever is mine is also yours,” Seungmin says a few moments later and Jisung’s heartbeat quickens at how simply he says it; like he means every word that he speaks. To be honest, Jisung isn’t used to such straightforwardness— nobody he knows says whatever comes to their mind. Not the way Seungmin does, anyway. It’s one of the many things he has grown to love about the angel. 

For now, though, Jisung can only stare at him wordlessly in response; he can’t think of anything to say. 

Seungmin flushes when he notices his gaze, but his eyes never leave Jisung. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing. You um— you’re so…?” Jisung stutters. His mind is all over the place which is so frustrating because it’s not even that big of a deal. It’s not like Seungmin declared his undying love for him. Why was this affecting him so much? 

“I am so... what?” Seungmin presses, looking curiously at him. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“Um, bathroom,” Jisung replies, and dashes out of the room before Seungmin can say anything. 

Once inside, he pulls out his phone and frantically texts Minho: 

**me:**

**[22:38] what 2 do if u find out u like sm1 but they r So out of ur league .**

**[22:39] when i say out of ur league i mean it. [10:39] maybe they r a different species ??? race ?? idk ?? hahah**

**cat dad:**

**[22:40] are you Kidding me ...**

**[22:40] u like seungmin ???**

**[22:41] wait is this why u were asking me abt the dating thing a few days ago???**

**me:**

**[22:41] CAN U KEEP IT DOWN?/ &;£3£3 WHAT IF HE HEARS**

**cat dad:**

**[22:42] …. we are literally texting**

**[22:42] ok let me think . do u think he likes u**

**me:**

**[22:43] r u CRAZY????!!!!! HE IS AN ANGLE??? I AM HUMAN ???? WHAT MAKES U THINK**

**[22:44] WHAG MAKES U RHINK HE LIKES ME**

**cat dad:**

**[22:44] angle ….**

**[10:45] ok stop crying we can meet up tomorrow n talk abt it okay?**

**me:**

**[22:46] k guess i'll just die 4 now then …**

**[22:47] thanks hyung love u <3**

**cat dad:**

**[22:48] hm. dori says hi <3 **

Which is basically Minho’s way of saying ‘i love you too’. Jisung stares at himself in the mirror. He can do this. He can go outside. It’s only Seungmin after all. 

Only Seungmin, who’s almost always with him. Who sings like an angel. Whose laugh Jisung is completely infatuated with. Whose eyes are probably the prettiest that Jisung has ever seen. Who, in general, is one of the most unique people Jisung has ever come across. 

Only Seungmin.

Jisung sighs, shaking himself. Okay, he might have a teensy, tiny crush on Seungmin, but it’ll probably blow over soon. He just has to go outside and pretend like nothing Seungmin does affects him. Till tomorrow, anyway. Then Minho can help him. 

Easy. 

“How do I look?” Jisung asks the next day, admiring himself in the mirror. “Hm,” says Seungmin, lowering his phone so he can see him more clearly. His eyes widen in surprise when his gaze lands on Jisung. “You look very nice!”

Jisung laughs, and ignores how warm his cheeks suddenly feel. “Why do you sound so surprised? I always look nice.”

“No, you do not,” Seungmin retorts, and continues playing whatever game he has on his phone – something to do with a chicken. Jisung will never understand his obsession with it. 

“Meanie,” he says in response, sticking out his tongue. He turns around to examine himself again, fiddling with his shirt. 

“Who are you dressing up for anyway?” Seungmin says suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. The cheeky smile on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes, though. Jisung wonders if he’s just imagining it. “Did Jisungie finally get himself a _lover_?” 

Jisung splutters, suddenly flustered. “No one, and I repeat, _no one_ our age uses that term anymore. And to answer your question, I’m meeting up with Minho hyung.”

“Oh,” Seungmin says, and Jisung can’t help but notice the not-so-subtle change in his voice. He definitely sounds a bit down. “Do you uh, like Minho hyung? As more than a friend?” he asks after a while, eyes seemingly trained on the game. 

Jisung gapes, and he whirls around to face the angel. “Why the hell would you say _that_?” 

Seungmin shrugs, trying to appear indifferent. “You are almost always with him, and whenever I see the two of you together, you look very happy.” His eyes meet Jisung’s. “It is nothing to be ashamed of. If you like him, and he likes you, then you should– as your kind would say– ‘go for it’. And–“ 

“Seungmin,” Jisung interjects. “You’re getting the wrong–”

“Don’t interrupt me. I was saying, and so what if he is an angel and you are a mere mortal? If you feel that you are truly happy with him, then you should not let anything stop you. You, of all people, deserve to find happiness,” Seungmin finishes, suddenly very fierce. His eyes lock on Jisung’s, whose heart is racing a mile a minute. He doesn’t know what to say, and he’s scared that the moment he opens his mouth, he’ll burst into tears. 

The chicken in Seungmin’s game suddenly squawks, and Jisung blinks back tears. What the hell was that. And more importantly, why did he feel like crying?

“Thanks,” he says weakly. “But I don’t like Minho hyung. Not like that, anyway.” 

“You do not have to pretend. Just because I am an angel, it does not mean that I do not understand–” Seungmin argues, the tips of his ears turning red. Whether it’s anger or something else, Jisung can’t really tell. 

“ _Seungmin,_ ” he cuts off the angel as gently as he can. “Minho hyung is one of my closest friends, nothing more and nothing less. And anyway, he’s dating Chan hyung and the two of them are really, really happy together. ” He adds firmly, making sure to look at the angel, who seemingly wilts under his gaze. 

“Oh, okay,” Seungmin mumbles after a few moments of an awkward silence, a sheepish grin slowly covering his face. He suddenly looks a lot more cheerful. “I got so worked up for nothing.” His ears are still red, most likely from embarrassment, now. 

“Yeah,” Jisung replies, laughing shakily. “But seriously, thank you, Seungminnie. What you said meant a lot to me. Especially the last bit.”

“Yes, well, I stand by that,” the angel’s voice regains its former firmness when he speaks, and Jisung’s heart starts pounding again. “As your guardian angel, I am forced to observe you throughout the day. And because of that, I have come to see that you have both a pure heart and soul. There are not many people like you in the world, Jisung, who love so openly and treat everyone with the same amount of kindness. I know you find it hard to accept, sometimes, but you are truly a wonderful person, and it is genuinely a pleasure for me to be in charge of you.” 

“Um,” Jisung says after a few moments of silence. It had taken a while for him to process everything Seungmin had said, and now that it was slowly beginning to sink in, Jisung could feel his heart going rampant inside his chest. His mind was completely blank; he couldn’t think of anything to say. “Seungmin–” he begins, and the intense gaze that the angel fixes on him is almost expectant, like he’s _waiting_ for Jisung to say something. “Seungmin–” he says again, heart pounding furiously, mind suddenly a whirlwind of inane words and senseless sentences. He opens his mouth, the words sitting right on the tip of his tongue, Seungmin’s eyes still fixed on his face. And _then_ , right when he’s about to let the words tumble out of his mouth, his phone rings shrilly and his stupid ringtone blasts in the room, startling both him and Seungmin. The tension, the anticipation, that had slowly built up between them, thick enough to cut through with a knife, dissipates in a second and Jisung grimaces. 

He glances at Seungmin, who has leaned back into his bed and resumed playing whatever he’d been paying earlier. Jisung can see from the way that his jaw is set so firmly, that he’s a bit disappointed. He feels his heart sinking slowly in his chest. He was so close to telling him. _So close._

“You should probably answer that,” Seungmin says, nodding towards Jisung’s phone. His eyes are still glued to his own screen, but it’s the sudden coolness of his tone that leaves a bitter taste in Jisung’s mouth. He mumbles a hasty apology to Seungmin, who shrugs indifferently, like he wasn’t affected in the least by whatever had just taken place. When he glances at the screen, he sees that it’s Minho who had been calling, probably to remind Jisung that was running late or something. Jisung sends him a quick text telling him that he’s on his way, and focuses on Seungmin instead. 

Was Seungmin genuinely upset with what had happened mere seconds ago, or was it just Jisung’s imagination running rampant as usual. Had he really seemed disappointed, or was his face always so carefully blank, void of any emotion whatsoever? He wants to ask Seungmin, but the words die in his throat. What would he ask him, anyway? For all he knows, he’s probably overthinking Seungmin’s reactions. 

“That was Minho hyung. He was probably wondering why I hadn’t shown up yet,” he says pathetically, like Seungmin had _asked_. Seungmin grunts in response, clearly uninterested. 

“Then you should go,” he mutters a moment later, voice bland. Jisung wants to rip his hair out. Why was this so difficult? “Right… Um, bye,” Jisung mumbles, and gives Seungmin one last look before heading out of his room. 

He unlocks the door to their apartment, and is just about to leave when something propels him to turn around and go back to where Seungmin is sitting. He steps inside his room, and notes that Seungmn has put away is phone and is simply lying down on the bed, eyes shut tightly. 

Jisung swallows, stepping closer to him. Seungmin doesn’t seem to notice he’s there, barely a few centimetres away from him. His eyes are still firmly shut, and Jisung’s heart beat quickens as he leans down to poke Seungmin’s cheek. 

The angel sits up immediately, eyes flying open in alarm. When he sees its only Jisung, he visibly deflates, before turning to look curiously at him. “Didn’t you just leave?” he says, not quite looking into his eyes.

“I was about to, but then I remembered I didn’t thank you for what you said.”

Seungmin’s eyes soften just a tad bit at his words, and he offers him a tiny grin. “You did, and anyway, it’s not like you _have_ to. I was just telling you what I’d observed.”

“I know,” Jisung shrugs, “but I wanted to.” And then, before Seungmin can say anything, he leans closer and tackles Seungmin into a hug. Seungmin, much like the first time they had hugged, is surprised to the say he least. He makes a tiny sound at the back of his throat before wrapping his arms around Jisung, pulling him closer. Jisung buries his head into Seungmin’s shoulder, catching a whiff of his wonderfully familiar clean, soapy scent. Seungmin’s hold on him tightens, and for a second Jisung thinks he’s going to say something, but the angel stays silent. Jisung feels his hands skim the surface of his own, fingers soft and warm. He could stay like this forever. 

However, only moments later Seungmin pulls back, the faintest of pinks dusted on his cheeks. He looks happy, and that alone brightens up Jisung’s mood considerably. “Thank you,” he says to Jisung, a wide smile adorning his face. “You should go now, though. It’s not nice to keep your elders waiting for you.”

Jisung snorts, rolling his eyes. “Oh, alright.” He says, and with another wave to Seungmin, he finally leaves, a skip in his step as goes to meet Minho. 

“You look cheerful,” Minho remarks, setting down his bag on a bench. They’re at some park a few minutes away from his university. Jisung regrets dressing up so nicely just to sit on some rickety bench at a half-deserted playground. 

He shrugs, turning to look at Minho. “Seungmin thought I liked you,” he blurts, unable to stop himself. Minho’s eyes widen in mild surprise, but his tone is as relaxed as ever when he says, “Why?”

“Because I got all dressed up to meet you,” he pouts. “I thought we’d go somewhere fancy, _hyung’s treat._ ”

“Somewhere fancy, my ass. I’ve got kids to feed,” Minho replies, taking a sip of water from his thermos. He’s referring to his cats, of course.

“You’re so mean to me,” Jisung whines, but doesn’t dwell on his complaints for too long, quickly getting to the point. “Anyway, what do I do with Seungmin?”

“Well, that’s upto you, really. It depends on how much you like him.”

Jisung sighs, kicking the dirt around him idly. _How much does he like Seungmin?_ “I like him a lot, hyung. Seriously, it’s– I don’t think I’ve ever felt so strongly about someone. He’s like no one I’ve met before, hyung. He’s–” he breaks off, shaking his head. His mind is clogging up again with all the words he wish he could’ve said to Seungmin earlier. “Do you know,” he continues, letting out a quiet, humorless laugh, “I was so close to telling him today. I was _so_ close, but then my phone rang and I felt like I couldn’t ever find it in me to say that to him again and it’s just so frustrating because I _want_ to tell him. I want to tell him so badly, hyung.”

Beside him, Minho shifts closer, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “I know, Sungie, I know,” he murmurs softly, running his fingers up and down Jisung’s arms comfortingly. He’s silent for a while, letting Jisung clear his mind a little. 

“Sungie,” he begins, after he’s sure his friend is feeling a bit better. Jisung pulls back to look at him curiously. “You’ll get to tell him, okay? I promise. When the timing is right, I know you’ll find it in yourself to say everything you’ve ever wanted to say to him.”

“Hyung–”

“Jisung, no. Listen to me. You’re a lot more than you think you are. A _lot_ more,” Minho’s gaze is as sharp as ever, his words dripping with sincerity. “I’m so scared he won’t like me,” Jisung fesses, and he knows form the way that Minho looks at him that he can see the fear in his eyes. “It’s okay to be scared, Sungie. For now, just trust yourself and the relationship you already have with Seungmin. Everything will fall into place, I promise.”

“Okay, hyung,” Jisung says, giving Minho a small smile. The angel – Jisung still has a hard time wrapping his head around it – smiles back, parting his hand gently. “Do you want to stay here for a while?” Minho asks, and when Jisung nods, he pulls out a few snacks from his bag and offers them to him. 

While they’re munching on a pack of gummy bears together, Jisung is struck with a thought. “Hyung,” he asks, “where’s Felix?”

“He’s on the other side of the park, skateboarding. Don’t worry, I’m still close enough to protect him from any serious harm.” 

“That’s not why I…” he says, voice trailing off, his heart beginning to sink. Silent Guards… guardian angels aren’t always around their charges physically, but still close by. His eyes widen at the same time as Minho’s, realization washing over him with waves of dread. He closes his eyes tightly, wanting to shut everything out. Seungmin’s words echo in his head, still as clear as the day that he had spat them. _“I’m your guardian angel, you buffoon. I’m_ always _with you.”_

Seungmin had heard everything he said. 

_It’s not that big of a deal,_ Jisung reassures himself, flinging open the door to their apartment. Since when was liking anyone a crime? He was sure Seungmin would understand, even if he didn’t exactly feel the same way as Jisung. The thought of the angel not reciprocating his feelings was painful, to say the least, but he’d much rather have Seungmin as a friend than nothing at all. 

He doesn’t bother taking his shoes off as he hurries inside, racing to his room first where he’d last seen Seungmin before leaving. One quick look inside tells him that the angel is not there, and he takes a deep breath to remain calm. Seungmin’s probably in his own room. He turns sharply on his heel and knocks once, twice on Seungmin’s door. When there’s no response, he hesitates for a moment before finally giving in, pushing the handle down with clammy hands, heart in his throat. The door opens slowly, and Jisung steps inside. He’s never been this nervous before. 

The room is empty, and Jisung can feel his heart sinking slowly to the pits of his stomach. “Seungmin?” he calls out, and is surprised to hear how small his voice sounds. “Seungmin?” he says again, a bit louder this time. He clenches his fists, trying to ground himself. Seungmin wouldn’t leave without an explanation, would he? His head begins throbbing, and with shaky legs he walks over to Seungmin’s bed. That’s when he spots a little piece of paper fluttering under a water bottle on Seungmin’s bedside table. 

Jisung’s heart races as he scrambles to get up. He snatches the paper with trembling fingers, eyes skimming over the hastily scribbled words. Seungmin had been in a hurry… why? He blinks, rereading the note:

_Dear Jisung,_

_You might not get to see me for the next few days. I cannot tell you much right now, and I am very sorry for that– and for a lot of other things too. Stay safe, and thank you._

_Love, (is this really how humans end their letters?)_

_Kim Seungmin (Seungminnie)._

Jisung stares at the piece of paper, willing the words written on it to change. Had Seungmin really left? How many days had he meant by writing “ _next few days_?” And what exactly was he apologising for? Leaving? He felt so confused, so lost. Where had Seungmin gone? Would he still be watching him, monitoring him in silence? 

He can feel the tears, hot and angry, welling up in his eyes. How was this _fair?_ Seungmin had clearly heard him talk about his feelings, and his first response was to disappear? To leave Jisung alone? He curses under his breath, studying the note for the nth time, as if reading it once more would reveal some hidden clue or a secret message Seungmin had left only for him. The paper remains the same, however – completely unchanged. 

If he wasn’t feeling so hurt, he would’ve smiled at the way almost adorable Seungmin had signed off, but everything inside him was a mess. His head was pounding, heart aching with sorrow and confusion. He despised being uncertain, hated that there was nothing for him to do but wait. He trusted Seungmin to come back, but when would that _be_? 

He can feel himself shaking again, so he lies down on Seungmin’s bed, taking deep breaths to steady his irregular heartbeat. When he rests his head on Seungmin’s pillow, he catches a hint of the angel’s familiar scent; cologne mingled with lavender scented soap and something else he can’t really name. This does nothing to quell his steadily growing feelings of sorrow and hurt, and every so often, he would feel a sharp pang in his heart, a reminder that Seungmin would not be around him for an indefinite period of time. 

He closes his eyes, wrapping Seungmin’s blanket around him. It proves to be a source of comfort, albeit a small one, and soon enough, Jisung falls asleep. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but it’s fitful at best, and he keeps waking up in the middle of night for no reason whatsoever. More than once that night, he feels a familiar pair of soft hands carding gently through his hair, and he wonders if he’s dreaming. Hadn’t Seungmin said he would be gone for a while? 

In the morning he blames it on his troubled sleep and wild imagination. Of course it hadn’t been Seungmin, and the more he thinks about it, the sillier he thinks it is. He shouldn’t be getting his hopes up like that. And yet, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop the little, barely–there seed of hope from blossoming in his chest.

A day passes, and then two more, and soon enough he manages to get through an entire week without Seungmin. 

Through the haze of sadness and uncertainty, he can’t help but notice a few irregularities throughout his days. They’re barely detectable, so subtle that sometimes Jisung wonders if he’s simply making them up. But the more perceptive part of him reassures him that he is, in fact, not imagining such things.

For example, the night after Seungmin left, Jisung had kicked his shoes off right in front of the door – something Seungmin had _always_ chastised him for. The next morning, he noticed they were stacked neatly in the shoe rack at the entrance. He shrugged it off, maybe he _had_ placed them correctly the night before. It was certainly odd, to say the least, but it was easy to convince himself that he had been too fatigued to recall correctly the events that had taken place. 

The second thing he noticed was how once, when he had left his food on the counter for a few minutes while he had rushed to the toilet, it was still warm upon his return. Under different circumstances, his bowl of japchae would’ve cooled down considerably, taking into account how cold the weather was. The japchae, however, seemed as if it had been heated mere seconds ago. A sudden image of Seungmin frantically fiddling with the microwave pops into his head, and he can’t help the wide grin that forms on his face. 

The third thing he notices, which truly convinces him that Seungmin is definitely still there, is this: he’s up late trying to complete one of his assignments, while simultaneously trying to figure out what seemed off about the track Chan had emailed him, when finally his body gives in and he falls asleep right there on his incredibly old, incredibly rickety chair, head lolling on his shoulder. When he wakes up, however, he isn’t in his chair. On the contrary, he’s lying in his own bed. He can’t recall walking all the way back to his head, and he knows for a fact he isn’t a sleepwalker – if he was, his friends would never have let him live it down. And anyway, his blanket was tucked very carefully around him, pillows fluffed. There was also a glass of water on his bedside table, which he was sure hadn’t been there the night before. 

He doesn’t know what to make of it, Seungmin taking care of him in these quiet, indiscernible ways. At first, the thought of the angel still being there for him was a very comforting one. Gradually though, he began finding it irksome. Why couldn’t Seungmin just show up in person and do those things for him, if he was so eager to? Why was he letting Jisung deal with all this confusion and inner-turmoil? 

A few days later, he decides he’s had enough. Seungmin’s a guardian angel, and that was something Jisung could use against him. All he had to do was wrack his brain to come up with something that was threatening, but convincingly so, that Seungmin would be forced to come back. He felt a bit guilty, playing with Seungmin’s emotions like that, but as long as either of them were in no real danger, it would be okay, he convinces himself. 

However, as it so turns out, Jisung doesn’t _need_ to catalyse a scenario in which he’s rendered helpless. Such opportunities present themselves to him readily.

Only a few days after Seungmin’s absence, Hyunjin, noting his sulky state, forces Jisung to join him and Felix, along with another friend of theirs, to try out some new skateboarding techniques at the park. Jisung fights back, argues that he’s fine and just doesn’t feel like going out, but Hyunjin is nothing if not persuasive, and in a few embarrassingly short minutes Jisung finds himself in the park, watching as his friends lose their minds over a skateboard, of all things. 

He sighs, turning the skateboard Hyunjin had lent him, over in his hands. He wishes Seungmin were here. He’d probably tell him he should’ve worn knee-pads or proper gloves, at least. The thought makes his heart twinge painfully. He still doesn’t understand why Seungmin had left. Was the thought of Jisung liking him so absurd to him? Or did he find it appalling?

“Oi!” Felix yells, jarring him from his thoughts. “Get your moping butt over here.” Jisung flips him off, and then hauls his behind over to where the rest of his friends are.

“Look at what Jeongin does. Just watch, it’s crazy,” Felix says breathlessly when he approaches his friends, and Jisung turns to focus on Jeongin, who’s apparently an expert at anything skateboard related. 

“Woah,” he whistles in disbelief, eyes trained on the youngest as he works wonders with his skateboard. “Dude, that’s _sick_!” 

“I can teach you,” Jeongin offers when he’s done, pushing away his sweaty bangs with a toothy grin etched on his face, and who is Jisung to say no to that adorable smile? 

Two hours later, he’s _exhausted._ Every single bone in his body aches, and he very firmly turns down Hyunjin’s requests to join them for a drink. “Thanks,” he says, “but I’m heading straight home. You guys have fun.” 

They wave him goodbye, telling him to get some rest before disappearing around the corner. Jisung himself heads down the street, opting to take the shortest route home. He probably shouldn’t, considering how the route in question consists mostly of narrow alleyways. Not to mention, it’s getting dark, fast. His mom would totally freak out if she saw him. So would Seungmin, now that he thinks of it. 

Maybe it’s sheer hopelessness, or just the fatigue kicking in, but he pauses in the middle of the alleyway and looks up at the sky. “Hey, Seungmin,” he says to the air, “look at me.” He waits for a few seconds, and then, “Kim Seungmin, I know you’re watching me. Come here.” 

When the air still doesn’t materialise into a Seungmin shaped body, he sighs and continues walking. He wonders if Seungmin would appear if he deliberately walked in front of a car, but then decides against it. It’d be wrong to alarm him like that intentionally. And also, what if Seungmin didn’t show up and he just _died_? Would it really be worth it? 

_Yes_ , the unhelpful, completely irrational part of his mind supplies. Jisung very smartly decides to ignore it. 

He sighs again and trudges down the never-ending alleyway. His knee stings rather terribly – he’d scraped it while skateboarding. At one point, he starts singing loudly – mostly to abate his steadily growing fear. The sky was turning an inky black, the first few evening stars dotting it. Jisung tries not to think about it. After all, he was only around seven minutes away from their apartment. _And anyway,_ he thinks, _everything comes to an end at one point, right? This stupidly scary alleyway would too._

He stumbles forward, eyes closed momentarily, when he feels his body knock hard against something solid and unmoving. His first thought is that it’s a wall, but he would’ve felt a lot more pain if he’d bumped right into a ton of breaks cemented together. His second theory is that maybe it’s Seungmin, who had finally taken pity on his sorry state and decided to come back, but he disregards that thought immediately after it pops into his mind; Seungmin had never reeked of sewers.

He pulls back, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. The odor he had smelt earlier is ten times stronger now, and he stumbles backwards, hitting a wall. He lets out a tiny groan when his body makes contact with it, and finally peels open his eyes. The first thing he sees is a pair of extremely sturdy hands. As his eyes move upwards, he takes in the burly body and the now sneering face that it belongs to. 

He swallows. Whoever this was, it was most definitely _not_ Seungmin. Before he can say anything, however, the man approaches him, lips curled into an almost cruel smile.

“And what do we have here?” he jeers, revealing a set of rapidly blackening teeth. Jisung feels his heart pounding in his chest. He’s never been mugged before, and he certainly hadn’t planned on it happening anytime soon. 

“What do you want?” he manages to spit out finally, and praises himself at how firm his voice sounds. He can’t show his mugger how afraid he is. 

“Don’t talk back to me, kid.” The man snaps, his eyes darkening, and it’s then that Jisung notices something glint under the worn out jacket he has on. Fear pools into the pits of his stomach, heavy and unwelcome. The man has a _knife._

He panics. He doesn’t have his wallet on him, only his phone. And what was the guarantee that the man would let him go after he’d handed his things over? Jisung could kick him, right in the groin, but he was too far away for it to be even slightly effective. And with every passing second, he knew he was losing precious time to potentially attack him. 

He’s never been this scared before. He pleads silently for someone to get him out of here, _anyone._

“I don’t have anything on me,” he chokes out, staring right into his black, beady eyes. The man sneers again, stepping closer. His fingers reach for something under his jacket, and–

“Hey!” A furious voice yells from ahead of them, and both their heads whip in its direction. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

Jisung doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry when he finally recognizes who it is. His knees buckle and he’s on the ground before he can say anything, body trembling with sheer relief. The man, however, simply looks amused. “And who are you?” he sniggers, gripping his knife. 

Seungmin walks towards him, and it’s his stance that throws Jisung off the most; he’s never seen Seungmin walk with so much confidence and determination. His face seems to have sharpened since the last time they had seen each other, jaw set firmly enough to intimidate anyone. Jisung can feel the anger rolling off him in waves, and if he was the mugger, he would’ve melted into a puddle of fear. 

“Get away from him,” Seungmin spits, glaring daggers at the man. Jisung’s heart stutters to a stop at how _mad_ he sounds. Was this really _his_ Seungmin? The same Seungmin who had cried over a knitted sweater? 

The assailant snickers, loud and scornful. “What makes you think I’ll listen to you, you–”

He never manages to finish. Seungmin, with inhumane swiftness, takes one long stride towards him and socks him right in the jaw. The man stumbles backwards, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. His eyes are wide with surprise and something akin to fear as he stares at Seungmin. He straightens up, ready to attack but the angel is a lot faster, and from what it seems, a lot stronger too. In the blink of an eye, the man is on the ground, clutching his stomach as he groans in pain. Seungmin gives him one last kick, watching as his eyes fall shut, and finally turns to face Jisung, whose jaw is wide open. Seungmin grins at him, and Jisung almost cries. He’d missed that smile more than anything. 

“Keep your mouth open like that and a fly might just decide to live inside,” Is the first thing the angel says to him, after sixteen days of no exchanges whatsoever. 

“You–” Jisung begins, gaping at him. He can’t stop looking at him. A part of him thinks that he’s either dreaming or fully unconscious. Seungmin is _really_ here. Right in front of him. His head spins and he feels like throwing up all of sudden. He’s extremely overwhelmed, to say the least. 

Seungmin crouches down beside him, so close that if Jisung wanted, he could reach out and touch him. He doesn’t, though, his arms hanging limply by his side. 

“Are you okay?” Seungmin asks, concern colouring his tone. His eyes are as pretty as ever when he looks into Jisung’s, and Jisung just… he wants it to stop. He’s sick of running around in circles, constantly being unsure of what to do next. He shakes his head. He’s not okay. 

“Seungmin…” he says quietly, and watches as the angel’s eyes soften. He looks at him almost forlornly. 

“I know you have a lot of questions, Sungie, and I owe you an explanation, but let’s go home first, okay?” Seungmin says, gently helping him sit upright. Jisung groans; his body aches all over, and there’s a sharp pain at the back of his head, presumably from when he’d hit it against the wall. 

“How did you come back all of a sudden?” he asks, after Seungmin has rung up the police to come and collect the unconscious man. 

“I’ll tell you everything when we get home,” he says, scanning Jisung’s face for any other injuries. “I promise,” he adds, when Jisung opens his mouth to argue. 

“Fine. I’m still mad at you, though,” Jisung scowls, voice petulant. Beside him, Seungmin is struggling to bite back a smile. “I know,” he says. “Let’s just go home now and get you cleaned up.”

They walk in silence for the rest of the way, Jisung leaning heavily on Seungmin’s shoulder. The angel has his arm wrapped carefully around his waist, and Jisung suspects that Seungmin is using some angel magic or something of that kind to help them move more quickly, because there’s no possible way for them to reach home in less than two minutes. 

When they open the door to their apartment, sheer exhaustion finally kicks in and Jisung nearly crumples to the floor. Seungmin’s hand, however, is as firm as ever on the small of his back and he helps carry Jisung towards the couch. 

“Hold on, let me get the first aid kit,” Seungmin says, straightening up. “I don’t have–” Jisung begins, but is cut off by a half amused, half exasperated Seungmin. “I didn’t expect you to, anyway. That’s why I have my own.”

Jisung can’t help but grin at his back. He’d missed Seungmin a lot more than he was letting on. He wonders if Seungmin knew how upset and lonely he had felt without him, and whether it had affected him in the slightest. Before he can dwell it on for long though, Seungmin returns and he carefully schools his expression into something neutral. 

The angel seats himself on the floor, right in front of him and fumbles with the box for a few moments. He pulls out a few bandages and alcoholic swabs, and places them carefully beside him. Then he turns to face Jisung, examining his injuries. “God, Jisung,” he sighs exasperatedly, taking one look at his skinned knee. It looks _horrible_ , streaked with blood and dirt, bits of gravel clinging to it. “How many times have I told you to be careful?” 

Jisung opens his mouth to speak, only to hiss as the angel gently dabs his knee with an alcoholic swab. 

“Sorry, does it hurt?” Seungmin apologizes at once, looking up at him to make sure he’s okay. The worry etched so clearly on his face makes Jisung’s heart flutter. 

He clears his throat. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just stings a little.” 

“Yes, well, I’ve told you not to be so reckless but you don’t ever listen, do you?”

Jisung can feel his lips form into a pout. “Hey, it wasn’t all my fault.” 

Seungmin just rolls his eyes, clearly not interested in whatever lame excuses the older boy comes up with. “Right. Because trying to skateboard out in the open when you can’t even walk without tripping on air was _my_ idea.” 

“You’re so mean,” Jisung scowls. “Wait!” he exclaims, watching the younger of the two reach for the bandage. Seungmin looks up at him in confusion. “What?” 

“Aren’t you going to blow on it first?” Jisung asks. 

“ _Blow_ on it? What are you, five?” Seungmin retorts, voice filled with incredulity. “My mom always used to blow on it before she put the bandage on,” he argues, and watches as the angel shakes his head in disbelief, muttering something about being _unsanitary_ and _harmful._ Still, he puts the bandage aside and blows lightly, before carefully wrapping the bandage around it. “There,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the fond smile on his face. 

“See? I feel much better now!”

“It’s all in your head, silly,” he laughs, flicking Jisung’s forehead. 

“Ow!” Jisung grimaces, rubbing his forehead. 

“Oops, sorry,” Seungmin snickers, not sounding sorry in the slightest.“Okay, now stay still. I’ve got to clean up your jaw.” 

He leans in closer, and Jisung hastily backs up into the couch. “Wait, what?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes for the nth time. “Your jaw. It needs to be disinfected.”

“Oh, right. Yes.” 

“Idiot,” he says, affection lacing his tone, and straightens up so his face is level with Jisung’s. He’s so close to him, that he can see his own– somewhat terrified – reflection in Seungmin’s eyes. The angel, however, is totally engrossed in the task at hand, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth as he swipes the swab on the bleeding gash on his jaw.

Jisung swallows. Seungmin can probably hear how incredibly fast his heart is beating right now, can feel the way he trembles ever so slightly every time Seungmin’s fingers, warm and feather-light, graze his skin. He likes the way Seungmin looks right now, focused and calm. His brows are furrowed in concentration as he tilts Jisung’s jaw ever so slightly to the left, tutting under his breath as he wipes something Jisung can’t quite see.

He sighs, and then looks up abruptly, catching Jisung, who had been staring shamelessly at him for the past few minutes, completely off-guard.

“What?” he says, voice subdued. His face is mere centimetres away from Jisung’s now. The angel’s pupils, he notes, have dilated considerably, as he looks right into Jisung’s eyes. 

Jisung doesn’t know why, but suddenly he’s reminded of the day Seungmin left, and all the pent-up furstration from the week before finally catches upto him. He's speaking before his brain even regsisters it, the words tumbling out one after the other like dominos. “You heard what I said that day, didn’t you?” he whispers, “at the park? You heard it, right?”

Seungmin’s face softens. “Jisung–”

“Then why’d you leave? You _knew_ how I felt, so why’d you leave?” He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Maybe Seungmin will finally understand how he had felt during the entirety of his absence. “And why,” he asks, voice steadily growing louder, “did you still look out for me? Why couldn’t you just come back and do all those things like you normally did, anyway? What was the point of making me feel so confused and hurt and _alone_ –”

“Jisung, I didn’t mean–”

“Do you know how horrible I felt?” He’s shaking now, fists clenched. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he thinks it might burst any second. “I thought– I thought it was _my_ fault. That I’d done something wrong. But all I did was like you, Seungmin,” his voice wobbles dangerously. “Was that my fault, too?”

“Stop it, Jisung,” Seungmin whispers. He grabs Jisung’s hand, flinching when he wrenches it from his grip immediately. “Let me explain,” he pleads, “please.” The look he gives him, imploring and so painfully sad to see, makes Jisung’s resolve crumble just a bit and he nods minutely, allowing him to continue. 

“I did hear you at the park, and you don’t know– I can’t tell you how _happy_ I was–”

Jisung’s head shoots up against his will, and he stares at Seungmin in surprise. He had been _happy?_

“I wanted to tell you– I was going to anyway, the moment you reached home but I never got the chance to,” Seungmin falters, looking away from him. Jisung feels too choked up to say anything, so he just waits in silence for the angel to continue. Seungmin takes a deep breath, meeting his eyes again, “While you were still talking to Minho hyung, the Higher Angel sent two other angels to come and get me. I was so confused, because he never summons us spontaneously, so I tried to resist but they forced me to go with them.”

Seungmin’s voice trembles. “The Higher Angel… he was nice. He asked me whether I still wanted to be your guardian angel–”

Jisung’s heart pounds in his chest, and he tears his eyes away from Seungmin. He’d understand if Seungmin no longer wanted him to be his charge. He’d be better off with his older charge, anyway, no complications and–

“And I said ‘ _of course_ _I still want to be his guardian angel’_ –”

_Wait, what?_

“He was surprised, but he said okay,” Seungmin rambles on, getting progressively breathless with every word he says, “but then he told me I shouldn’t see you for the next few days, and I refused immediately because I knew you’d be so upset and I begged him to let me at least speak to you once before I left but–” his sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few moments. “but he said it’d be better that way. I didn’t understand, so I asked him if I could at least leave you a note and he agreed but he told me I couldn’t tell you anything about where I was or why I was leaving.”

Jisung feels dizzy as he listens to more and more of what Seungmin is saying. What’s comforting, at least, is that Seungmin had been just as upset as him and hadn’t wanted to leave of his own accord anyway. 

“So I left you a note, but I still kept watching over you, you know? I think you noticed it, especially after the bowl of japchae,” he breaks off, giving him a watery smile. “It hurt me a lot too, to stay silent and just watch as you went on with your day without me.” Jisung pretends his words don’t make his heart go haywire. “But I kept waiting, and then you showed up in that alleyway–” he pauses, now looking at Jisung with something close to aggravation, “which reminds me, why _were_ you there, anyway? Couldn't you see how dark it was getting? I can't believe you sometimes, Han Jisung, I really can’t–”

He shakes his head, mumbling furiously under his breath. Jisung can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. Seungmin immediately looks up at him in disapproval. “It’s not funny. You could’ve gotten hurt. You _are_ hurt.”

“But it’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Jisung smiles, reaching for his hand. “What? _Good?_ Jisung, have you lost your–”

“Good,” he affirms, and he isn’t surprised at all to hear how affectionate he sounds, “because it brought you to me. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Seungmin’s breath hitches, and Jisung tugs him closer to himself with his hands. “Seungmin,” he breathes when they’re finally face to face. The angel stares back at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. Jisung can tell that he’s both confused and flustered, and it’s such an endearing sight that he can’t help but lean in closer.

Seungmin stares at him for a few moments, clearly perplexed. He doesn’t understand why Jisung is suddenly getting close to him, but he doesn’t pull away either. He grips Jisung’s arms with his hands, looking right into his eyes, and Jisung thinks, _it’s now or never._

Seungmin opens his mouth to say something, his breath hot but still smelling of mint, fanning over Jisung’s face. He leans in just a bit closer, and Jisung decides he’s had enough. He glances once more at Seungmin’s face, the bright eyes and the adorable nose, before leaning in and finally closing the gap between them, pressing his lips firmly against Seungmin’s. The angel gasps into the kiss, eyes fully open, as Jisung tugs him closer still. Eventually, his eyes flutter shut, and he kisses back eagerly, albeit clumsily, arms reaching up to lock themselves right below Jisung’s neck. His lips are so soft, softer than Jisung had thought they would be – and yes, he _had_ thought about them quite a lot – tasting faintly of watermelons and salt. It’s such a strange combination that Jisung nearly grins into the kiss, tightening his hold on Seungmin’s slim waist. 

The angel accidentally bites down on his lip, and Jisung finally pulls back reluctantly, his head spinning. The look on Seungmin’s face when they finally separate is adorable. He looks slightly lost, like he’s unsure about what had just happened, and his cheeks are flushed a bright pink. “Wow,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on Jisung’s lips. “That was… something.”

Jisung grins, unable to tear his eyes away from Seungmin’s face. “I like you,” he says, loud and clear, and revels in the way Seungmin’s ears turn a dark shade of red at his words. 

“I like you too,” the angel replies, squeezing his hands lightly. “A lot.”

Jisung hums happily, pulling Seungmin right next to him on the couch. He wraps both his arms around Seungmin’s waist, burying his head in his chest. The angel’s chest rumbles with silent laughter, his fingers carding through Jisung’s hair. 

“Oh, God,” Seungmin says a few moments later, wrinkling his nose in disgust, “you stink.” Jisung hums noncommittally. “I’ll shower in a bit,” he replies tiredly, leaning into Seungmin’s touch. The angel doesn’t say anything in response, and when Jisung takes a quick peek at his face a few moments later, his heart swells at how fondly Seungmin is looking down at him. He closes his eyes again, a wide grin on his face. Just when he’s about to drift off, he feels a pair of lips brush against his forehead, soft and light. 

Jisung thinks his heart will explode with how incredibly happy he is right now, with Seungmin right next to him. For a few moments, at least, with Seungmin next to him, in the soft, incandescent glow of the little lamp beside them, he can let himself believe that everything will be alright. And that, he decides sleepily, is more than enough for now. 

(They tell Minho first, who doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest. “The Higher Angel’s a softie for Seungmin,” he says with a cat-like grin, like that explains everything. 

Hyunjin nods understandingly. “It was bound to happen,” he mutters later on, “Changbin hyung barely knows Seungmin and even he could tell you two had something going on.”

Felix goes ballistic. There’s no other word for it. He goes _crazy_ . “Oh my God,” he shrieks. “Oh _my God. Jisung._ You’re dating _Seungmin._ Oh my God.”)

“Can you believe it’s only been eight months since we became roommates? It feels like forever to me.”

“Why?” Seungmin questions with a teasing smile. “Am I that tiresome?”

“Yes,” Jisung agrees jokingly, sticking out his tongue at the angel, who smacks him lightly on the head. “Just kidding,” he amends, “but really. It feels like a really long time.”

Seungmin nods, suddenly somber. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“I still remember the first day so vividly. You used to speak like Othello back then,” Jisung laughs, holding onto Seungmin’s arm. “It was so funny, because I thought you were just doing it as a part of your act to convince me, y’know?” 

“Haha,” Seungnin deadpans. “I remember the first day, too. You were so annoying,” he sighs, fixing Jisung’s hat. “Still are. Also, we need to get your hair fixed. You’ve bleached it so many times, it’s dying.” 

“But I grew on you,” Jisung replies, winking cheekily at him. He very conveniently ignores the comment regarding his (very healthy) hair. Seungmin rolls his eyes and starts walking forward. “Like mold,” he teases, eyes glinting. 

“Hey!” Jisung pouts. Or attempts to, anyway, because even he can’t contain the laughter that bubbles out of him at Seungmin ’s sarcastic responses. 

“You’re lucky you were cute,” is all Seungmin offers as a reply, grabbing his hand as they enter a particularly crowded area. The fact that he remembers Jisung feels anxious around too many people makes him feel warm all over. 

“Did you just call me cute? Aw, Seungminie— Wait, what do you mean _were?_ ” 

Seungmin grins, wide and playful, before skipping a few steps ahead of Jisung, leaving him behind. 

“Kim Seungmin!” Jisung hollers, indifferent to the disgruntled looks he attracts from passers-by. 

Seungmin pays him no attention, and even from afar Jisung can hear his giggles, loud and bubbly. His eyes are scrunched in the most adorable way as he beckons Jisung from the edge of the street to come closer. 

Jisung shakes his head, not even bothering to hide how his cheeks have split into the widest grin at Seungmin’s antics. He walks right into Seungmin’s outstretched arms, letting out a muffled “oomph” when the angel wraps his arms tightly around him.

“You’re like a _baby_ ,” Seungmin laughs, pulling his cheeks affectionately. Jisung melts. He loves seeing Seungmin like this, carefree and loud, playful but fond. “Mhm,” Jisung mumbles in agreement, and leans in to press a fleeting kiss on Seungmin’s lips. 

He pulls back, admiring the pretty pink that colors his cheeks, and grabs his hand, pulling him towards his favourite coffee shop. “C’mon,” he grins, “It’s time for cake.” 

“If it’s that _angel_ cake again…” Seungmin mutters, allowing Jisung to lead him inside. 

Jisung laughs. “Not this time, I promise.” he says,

His heart bursts with pure joy and happiness when Seungmin pinches his cheek fondly, before admiring the array of desserts in front of him with almost child-like wonder. “That,” he says, pointing to a slice of strawberry cheesecake, “and this too! They _all_ look so tempting.” He whirls around, pouting at Jisung. “Help me choose.”

 _And sure,_ he thinks as they figure out what to buy, _Seungmin might be his guardian angel, but he’s saved his life in more ways than one._

**Author's Note:**

> aaaah!! if u made it till the end then hello! i hope you liked it! this was kind of a pain in the ass to edit but i managed to pull through for seungsung :D i am just now realizing i didnt make any 'did it hurt when u fell from heaven jokes' and my heart is shatterring into tiny little pieces that all belong to seungsung  
> ANYWAY here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/daengkas)! and if u have any questions here's my [cc!](https://curiouscat.qa/sungdaengs)


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